


The Four Horsewomen: Directive 51

by AttackPlatypus, LiteratureLocker



Category: Tom Clancy's The Division, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: 4HW as total badasses, A bunch of other characters that I'm honestly too lazy to tag, A little bit of Charlotte/Tessa, Apocalypse, F/F, Mentions of Rape, Possible Character Death, The Division (Video Game), This one's going to be a wild ride, because there are a lot, hold on tight, light D/s relationship, no one is safe, shit has hit the fan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2020-01-16 06:25:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 45
Words: 182,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18515749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AttackPlatypus/pseuds/AttackPlatypus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiteratureLocker/pseuds/LiteratureLocker
Summary: Black Friday brought about the rise of the Green Poison epidemic as contaminated bills made their rounds through Manhattan's economy.  That was weeks ago, Manhattan as we know it is gone and cities around the country wait with bated breath to see if they will be next.  The people of Chicago never would have guessed it would be them, but overnight the fences went up and the military moved in.  Now the President has initiated Directive 51, activating the stay behind organization known only as 'The Division'.





	1. Marching orders, going solo - Charlotte

Sharp, staccato, breathing.  
  
Stretching and pulling of the muscles in her legs as she forced one foot in front of the other.  
  
Acute burning through her chest as the cold air enters her lungs.  
  
These were things that Charlotte understood.  Things that Charlotte had grown more than accustomed to throughout her life.  These were things that made sense in a world that was falling apart around her.    
  
Charlotte exhaled forcefully as she turned for another lap around the track that ran along the exterior perimeter of Scott Air Force Base.  This was a life she understood.  The daily PT, the structure, the respect that the uniform usually got her…all of that made sense to her, it was comforting to her.  And as her company’s First Lieutenant, she had thrived in that sense of security her life in the Air Force had provided her.  
  
Then Black Friday happened, and the Green Poison was released to the country.  It only took the Dollar Flu a week before it toppled Manhattan, thrusting it rather viciously into riots and mass hysteria.  The National Guard had been deployed and the JTF had risen from the ashes.  It was a coalition that swept the nation, growing in force and notoriety, though it always seemed to be a few steps behind the virus.  
  
The fall of Manhattan had happened almost a week ago, and now Charlotte was just waiting on her marching orders.  There was no doubt that the Air Force would be scrambled and sent out to the East Coast to help.  It seemed as though the Dollar Flu was spreading quickly, but had yet to reach past the Mid-Atlantic states, and definitely hadn’t made it to the Mid-West quite yet.  The only question that remained was if her company would be deployed to aide in the rescue efforts.    
  
She stuttered to a stop as a Jeep approached her on her right side.  She turned to face the younger Airman as he handed her a piece of paper.  Charlotte didn’t need him to say anything for her to understand what this meant.  A quick scan of the paper confirmed what she had originally thought, the Lt Colonel was looking for her.      
  
She nodded and smiled at the Airman who drove off, silently thanking him for delivering the message.  She sighed and turned towards the building where she knew the Lt Colonel’s office was.  Anytime she got called there, it was never a good thing.  She could only hope this meant that her company was finally being sent to New York.    
  
The note had stated that the matter was time sensitive, so she bypassed going back to her rack and changing into her uniform.  It was rather common knowledge that Charlotte spent most of her down time working out, so the sight of her in her PT clothes wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone really.  She paused outside the Lt Colonel’s door and smoothed down her hair at least before she knocked.  She waited for the muffled “Enter,” before she pushed the door open and offered a salute.    
  
Lt Colonel Malenko returned the gesture quickly before handing her a file.  “Change of orders for you, Flair.”  
  
“Sir?” Charlotte questioned after she had a chance to read the transfer paperwork.  Her eyebrow rose higher in confusion when she saw the letters JTF next to her new duty assignment.    
  
“The JTF is requesting the Air Force to assist them with setting up a new base of operations in Chicago.”  
  
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Go ahead, Flair.”  
  
Charlotte took a second to steady her voice.  The last thing she needed was to get emotional over this.  “They need medical personnel that badly?  I can’t be the only Combat Rescue Officer in Illinois.  So why me?”  
  
Malenko shrugged, “you’re not, but you’re the only one with actual combat experience.  And you’re attending medical school, so that makes you even more desirable.  They need help in researching this thing.”  
  
Charlotte wanted so badly to argue that she wasn’t a researcher, that she didn’t belong in the lab.  No, she belonged on the front line with her team.  So instead of arguing her new job description, she argued for what she thought Malenko would understand the most.  “It just has my name on these transfer orders.  What about the rest of my team?”

“They’re going to be heading out to New York by the end of the week.  And before you start to argue, no you may not request a different transfer.  Captain Bourne from CPD asked for you specifically.”  
  
He sighed and rubbed at his eyes.  “I like you Charlotte, I always have.  And I understand why you’re upset by this.  But my hands are tied.  You leave first thing in the morning.”  
  
Fighting the urge to argue further, Charlotte simply saluted her senior officer, pivoted on her heel.  She all but stormed out of the room, growling under her breath at this turn of events.  When she wanted to be deployed, she wanted it to be at ground zero.  She wanted to see action. She craved it so desperately she could taste it.    
  
The last thing she needed was to become a babysitter for incompetent JTF agents — not when the world was on the verge of collapse and she was ready to come to its rescue.  What good would a thrown together group of first responders and National Guard members be against the Dollar Flu?  
  
_Not a whole hell of a lot_ , she groused to herself as she headed to her rack in order to begin packing for the next day.  She would take this new assignment without any more complaint because that’s what she did.    
  
That was her.    
  
Charlotte Flair.  
  
The epitome of loyalty, responsibility and dedication.  She would do this job, and she would flourish.  She always did.    
  
A quick flash of light broke through Charlotte’s internal bitch fest.  She couldn’t stop the smile that was spreading slowly across her face as she looked down at the watch on her left wrist as it blinked a few more times before a solid orange light encircled the face.  
  
“That’s much better.”


	2. Out of the ashes - Becky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another watch activates, another agent joins the fight.
> 
> _________________________

The tv’s flickered through scenes from Manhattan quietly in the background.  Another day, another update from the East Coast on how quickly Green Poison is spreading.  Another day, another update on how devastating Green Poison could be.  Another day, another reminder of how cruel and vicious the human race really is.  
  
Becky Lynch sighed as she idly wiped a tumbler with a rag.  There wasn’t anything pressing for her to handle, no chores to keep up with, nothing to organize or adjust.  In order to have something to do, people had to walk through the door.  
  
She wasn’t sure if it was the fear of Green Poison, or if it was the fear of other people, but her patronage had taken a serious hit in the last few days.  Only her regulars had braved this new world to show up at her bar.  Granted, most of her customers were regulars what with where her place was located.  But still, ever since the virus broke out in New York, less and less people have shown up.  
  
She reached down, grabbed a bottle of Coors Light and opened it with the bottle opener she had attached to her hip.  She placed it in front of the older man who had just entered as he sat down on one of the stools.  She winked at him before he turned to look at the tv.  
  
“It’s a damn shame,” he sighed as he took a sip from the cold beer.  
  
“What is?” another regular asked, this one a college-aged girl.  
  
“That,” he gestured at the tv.  “People should be helping each other instead of tearing each other down.”  
  
“Nah.  At this point, it's every person for themselves.  Working in a group only opens you up to more chances of infection.”  
  
“You a doctor or something?”  
  
The young woman chuckled.  “No.  My mom wants me to be one though.”  
  
The man hummed as he took another sip of his beer.  “Regardless of infection rates, people should be helping each other out. That’s how we’re going to survive this.  Isn’t that right Becky?”  
  
Becky narrowed her eyes at the tv as the new death toll flashed across the bottom of the screen.  “I don’t think we need to worry about it.  The virus hasn’t spread out of New York.”  
  
She reached down, grabbed a couple of shot glasses and poured some whiskey into them.  She put one in front of each of the people sitting at the bar.  “So I say, we let New York handle New York, and we just enjoy ourselves.”  
  
 The truth was that Green Poison hadn’t reached Illinois yet as far as anyone knew.  But the entire country was feeding off of the panic, chaos, and disorder that was stemming from emergency quarantine that was happening over there.  People thought that because the government was failing and the National Guard had been deployed to assist, that it gave them the right to riot in the streets even out here.  
  
Becky tossed back her shot, hissed through the burn in the back of her throat and narrowed her eyes at the tv as more images flashed across the screen.  There was one thing, in particular, she was looking for.  One thing that would help settle the unease that had arisen and had been growing, ever since Black Friday.  All she needed was a quick flash of color among the horrid images that were bombarding the country on an hourly basis.    
  
She felt her heart sink with every picture and video clip that popped up.  The dread settled deeper with every word of the news ticker that scrolled by without any mention of the group she was looking for.  With each passing second, it was getting harder to remain optimistic when every picture was so devoid of the color orange.  
  
No matter how nonchalant Becky seemed to be about what was happening in New York, the truth of the matter was that it was eating her up inside that she was still stuck in her bar when she knew she could help.  She wasn’t one to sit around and do nothing while people were suffering around her.  She despised people who did that, and she refused to be one of them.  
  
Her mother always said that she would change the world.  
  
She had been eight when her mother first said those words.  Becky had come home from school with a bloody nose, a black eye and a grin so big, it took up her entire face.  When asked what happened, Becky patiently explained that some of the school bullies had been picking on Thomas O’Sullivan again, and Becky wasn’t about to let it happen in front of her.  
  
Little Thomas O’Sullivan who was always just a little too short, always just shy of being the right weight, with glasses that were too big, and a lisp that was too prominent to go unnoticed.  Thomas O’Sullivan who was also one of the sweetest boys that anyone could ever hope to meet.  That boy shit sunshine and puked rainbows, and there was no way that Becky was going to let the school bullies get away with picking on the poor boy any longer.  
  
So she waited, and she planned, and then she struck when the iron was hot.  
  
The justice wasn’t really all that creative, and it lacked a certain type of finesse.  But it got the job done, and eight-year-old Becky couldn’t have been prouder of herself.    
  
She had waited until it had just finished raining one day when all of the children were outside during a break at school.  She had snuck up behind the leader of the small pack of bullies and managed to tie his shoelaces together without him or any of his lackeys noticing. Then, once that was done, she stood up, tapped him on the shoulder and then slapped him across the face once he turned to look at her.  
  
She didn’t wait to see his reaction.  Instead, she ran off, hoping beyond hope that he would give chase.  He did not disappoint.  
  
Becky had laughed when his feet got caught up in the laces of his shoes and he pitched forward, face first in a giant mud puddle.  She had thought it was hysterical, but it turned out his friends didn’t.  Her little prank soon turned into an all-out brawl as several eight-year-olds threw blind haymakers towards their opponent, managing to look more like a discombobulated mess than an actual fight.  But Becky had been tagged once or twice, and she had dolled out just as much damage to the boys.    
  
She walked the whole way home that day with blood still on her shirt and shoes, and the biggest, proudest grin plastered on her face.  She knew at that moment that this was what she was supposed to do.  
  
She was supposed to stand up for the little man, the ones who wouldn’t and couldn’t do it for themselves.  She was supposed to be the defender of what was right and ethical.    
  
Becky was supposed to be a fighter.  And a fighter she became.  
  
If they would only let her into the skirmish.    
  
It was obvious that the newly founded Chicago JTF was already in over its head, and Black Friday had only been two, maybe three weeks ago.  They could use all the help they could get, so why weren’t they calling up the reinforcements?  
  
Becky sighed as she reached for the bottle of whiskey again.  She poured everyone another round and as she was about to toss hers back, she noticed that her watch started flashing a bright orange.    
  
She finished her shot, slammed the glass down on the counter and fished her keys out of her pocket.  She despised sitting on the sidelines.  Hated that other people were fighting the fight she knew she could help win.  But she had waited like they wanted her to.  
  
The waiting was over.  It was time to take the city back with fire and brimstone.    
  
She grinned, tossed the keys to the old man and started walking towards the door.    
  
“Becky?” he called out, confusion lacing his words.  
  
“Close up before ya leave, won’t ya love?”  She called over her shoulder.  She paused at the door, her hand reaching for the knob.  She slowly turned back to regard the man she had known for years.  “And don’t let them drink all the good stuff.  I’ll be back for it later.”  
  
With that, she yanked the door open and walked out into the street, whistling an old Irish song as she went.    
  
The orange of the watch face had unleashed Straight Fire onto the city, and Becky could only hope they were ready for it.  


	3. Origins - Sasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another watch activates...Sasha Banks' life has been coasting along until a crisis brings her an opportunity to thrive.

Sasha had often been singular. 

 

Many things about her screamed ‘singular’. Her magenta hair, her striking gaze, even her general demeanor, Sasha rarely blended into a crowd.

 

And amidst a world that seemed to be sinking into chaos, she had a new distinction. She was a member of one of the few thriving institutions left in Chicago. For it seemed that, regardless of circumstances in the larger world, there would always be a demand for her profession.

 

Sasha was a stripper. And she refused to euphemize about it. 

 

“Girl, is it bad that I just made more money in one stage show than I used to in a week?” she asked as she pushed through the curtain that led backstage at Malenkos, the club she usually danced at.

 

“Yoooo right?” Shaniqua, Sasha’s friend, and co-worker said from where she was sitting at a makeup mirror. 

 

“You’d think the poor bastards would have better use for their money nowadays,” Summer Rae, another dance said as she tugged at her hair. She was due to go out next.

 

“You going out to the floor now Sash?” Shaniqua asked.

 

“Nah, I’m on my break,” Sasha said as she dropped into a chair and grabbed her phone from her bag.

 

“You loss, more money for me,” another girl, Eva Marie, called as she left the dressing area. But Sasha wasn’t attending. As had become the norm on turning on her phone she had a ton of notifications from her news app, all of them about bad news.

 

“ _ Green Poison cases confirmed in 39 states.” _

 

_ “Mass riots turn violent in New York, Mayor moved to secure location.” _

 

_ “President considering invoking emergency powers/” _

 

_ “Over 100 killed in Houston riots.” _

 

_ “Governor of Illinois activating national guard units, elements of the 33rd Infantry Brigade ordered to Chicago.” _

 

Sasha blew out a sad breath as she read. The world was going to shit around them, but people still had money to come watch her shake her ass. It was like Summer had said, you’d think people would have more pressing needs. But she supposed the need for escapism knew no bounds. She was still thinking this when someone sat down next to her.

 

“You got somewhere safe to go after work?” Shaniqua asked her quietly, looking around as though she were worried they’d be overheard.

 

Sasha snorted at this as she asked: “You think we’re safe here? Dean and his baseball bat aren’t going to mean much if shit pops off.”

 

Shaniqua nodded at this but pressed on: “But like seriously, if you need a safe place I know some people who are getting together to protect themselves from this shit.”

 

Sasha frowned. She wondered if Shaniqua could be suggesting what she thought she was. “There’s a disease going around, hanging out in groups isn’t a great idea,” she said delicately, waiting to see what the other woman would reveal.

 

Shaniqua waved this away saying: “You see all the fucked up shit that’s happening all over, people gotta protect themselves. Some of the people back in the hood-”

 

Sasha let a relieved sigh inwardly.

 

“...-Got guns and shit, we’re ready,” Shaniqua finished in a whisper. Sasha looked at her friend searchingly for awhile as she considered her answer.

 

“Don’t get mixed up in that Shaniqua, it’s going to end badly,” she said suddenly as she stood. Before Shaniqua could say anything else Sasha announced that she was going out to the floor. As she walked away from a surprised looking Shaniqua, she was wondering (or maybe hoping) that she wouldn’t be there when her friend’s plan blew up in her face.

 

The rest of the night passed unremarkably for Sasha, though profitably. Her purse was notably heavier as she finally left that club around 3 AM. But as she headed to her car, she heard a footfall behind her. Spinning quickly she found herself facing a disheveled and obviously drunk man.

 

“Hey there darling...wanna...you wanna...how about a kiss to go with that dance from earlier,” he slurred as he took a stumbling step toward her. Sasha didn’t even bother answering, she just sidestepped and tripped the drunk which sent him crashing to the pavement.

 

“Go home, get good with whatever you believe in,” Sasha said as she rolled him onto his back with her foot. Morbid curiosity made her look down at this face for a time. He wouldn’t have been bad looking when sober, long blonde hair and chiseled features. Sasha looked down at him for a bit longer before asking: “What’s your name?”

 

“Sylvain…” he muttered thickly, he had a bloody nose and several cuts on his face. 

 

“Roll onto your side Sylvain, and don’t come back here,” Sasha told him as she spun on her heel and walked to her car.

 

Now, a lifetime later, Sasha was lying prone on the roof of an autobody shop. She peering through the scope of her rifle at a group of men several blocks away. She’d been stalking them for an hour after hearing about a particularly violent group of looters in the neighborhood. She’d personally seen them rough up several people, threatening to kill them for good measure.

 

As she stared through her scope she let her crosshairs fall on the face of the group’s leader. A face she knew, a face with long blonde hair and chiseled features.

 

“I told you to go home,” she said to him before she blew out her breath and gently squeezed the trigger. Even before Sylvain hit the ground, his companions had begun to scatter, Sasha shot two more of them for good measure. She then stood, retrieved her weapon, and began to walk toward the roof access door. As she walked she looked down at her wrist, at the watch-like device there, a device where a bright orange circle had glowed not so long before.

 

“God I love my job.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo we're off and running! I'm a beyond excited to be starting this journey with my colossally talented co-writer, LiteratureLocker. I can assure you all that we have some big plans for our girls, not all of them pleasant. But what we hope to do is let these exceptional women shine through, even in an AU!
> 
> If you liked what you read, make sure and bookmark so you don't miss anything as they chapters come out! Beyond that, I love interacting with you all in the comments so don't be shy! I'd love to hear from you!...oh and Kudos rock too!
> 
> Now, onto this chapter. What did you all think? Sasha is obviously a tough cookie, but what does it say about her that she can enjoy the kind of turmoil that is consuming Chicago? What does that point to down the road?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Origins - Bayley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another watch activates...Bayley Martinez has been watching the world collapse around her, but will she get an opportunity to fight it?

“What are you doing here?” Natalya Neidhart asked, surprised to find Bayley Martinez sitting morosely in her classroom. The principle had been doing her daily walkthrough of the now deserted building, but she hadn’t expected anyone to be here. Not any more.

 

“Last week some kids showed up remember? I want to be here in case some do again...they need someone to teach them,” Bayley said sadly as she looked around her empty classroom. She was a 2nd-grade teacher, though the last lessons she’d actually given had been to kids from grades K-5.

 

Natalya, Bayley’s boss, gave her a sad look as she stepped into the classroom. “Bayley...you should be at home, preparing for...well...whatever is going to happen next,” Natalya said next. Bayley looked down sadly at her desk, knowing that her boss, mentor, and friend was speaking the truth.

 

It had been almost a month and a half since Black Friday and since the green poison had been revealed, and since, in the eyes of many, the beginning of the end of the world had taken place.

 

At first, people had simply shaken their heads darkly at the news reports flooding in from the East coast. The images had been horrifying, hospital wards packed to bursting, rioters clashing with police, and military personnel standing on city streets. But then the cases had started around the rest of the country. Including Chicago. People had tried to continue on with life, many making jokes about how Christmas shopping wouldn’t be stopped by any old flu. But it had.

 

Life had.

 

As more and more people had fallen sick, and the city had become less and less safe, fewer kids had shown up to school. At first, most of these absences were duly reported by parents with the assurance that they would return when things ‘blew over’. That had been weeks ago. As time had passed more and more kids had simply not appeared one day leaving Bayley and her fellow faculty to wonder darkly if they had been pulled….or had been infected.

 

Then some of the faculty had stopped showing up. At first, the staff had banded together to support each other and their charges. But as with everything in that horrible time, decay had set in quickly. And once those flood gates had opened, there was no closing them despite the best efforts of Neidhart and others. Bayley couldn’t blame most of the teachers, the ones with families of their own had been the first to vanish. But for a while, a small cadre of younger teachers, like Bayley, had hung on. They’d pooled their resources and continued to provide some sense of normalcy to their dwindling student body.

 

But that had all ended a week ago when the last remaining teacher aside from Bayley had stopped coming in. Her name had been Tiffany Terrel and she was one of Bayley’s close friends. A friend that Bayley hadn’t heard from since she just hadn’t shown up one day. Now, Bayley was the last teacher standing.

 

“Bayley, I think you need to accept that...this…” Neidhart said as she waved at the echoing building around them “...is over.”

 

“You’re still here,” Bayley pointed out, finally looking up.

 

Neidhart chuckled sadly as she pulled a chair up to Bayley’s desk. The rest of the building was looking decidedly shabby nowadays, between the lack of facilities staff and the fact that the school had broken into more than once. But Bayley had always come back and done her best to set HER classroom to rights. Even now, it could have accepted it’s former students readily.

 

“I suppose I’m as attached to this place as you are. Maybe more…” Neidhart said sadly “...I was the first ever female principle of Chicago’s best magnet school. It took me years of work to get here, I guess I feel like I can’t give up on it even now.”

 

The real pain and sadness in Neidhart’s voice made Bayley reach out and put a hand on her arm. “I get it,” was all she said.

 

“I suppose you do,” Neidhart responded with a sad smile. She contemplated Bayley for a while before saying: “You know, it is really sunny out...maybe some kids WILL show up today. They’ll need a teacher if they do and I bet you wouldn’t mind an assistant.”

 

Bayley felt a happy tear at the corner of her eye at this but she blinked it away. Instead, she asked: “Do you still remember how?” Neidhart barked a laugh at this.

 

“Listen young’in...I was teaching before you learned how to drive,” she joked. She was going to say more but there was suddenly a loud crash outside the classroom that made them both jump. Then came the sound of harsh voices.

 

“Spread out, it’s a school so there will be stuff worth taking!” a man shouted.

 

“There were cars in the parking lot, what if someone’s here?” a woman shouted back.

 

“Then we take whatever they go too! If they fight us, we put them down!” the man answered.

 

“Oh my god,” Neidhart breathed in sudden panic. Her eyes darted to the window but it wasn’t designed to open and they were on the second floor.

 

Bayley felt a sudden chill settle over her stomach.

 

Now was the time.

 

“Stay here!” she whispered. She stood and then added, “hide in the supply closet.”

 

“Bayley! You can’t go out there!” Natalya hissed, moving to follow but Bayley whirled on her so fast that Neidhart fell back into her chair.

 

“I will be FINE Nattie, please go hide, I’ll be right back!” she said in a quiet but absolutely authoritative voice. Neidhart blinked, looking at Bayley as though she’d never see her before. And in a sense, she hadn’t. Not this Bayley anyway.

 

After assuring herself that Natalya was in the closet, Bayley slipped out into the hallway and listened with all her might. She could hear several voices but none in her immediate area. Quickly killing the lights in her classroom, she slipped down the hallway. She was without weapons at the moment, and as it was a school there weren’t many options. With this in mind, she began making her way toward the teacher's lounge.

 

Somehow the familiar room, where she’d spent many hours, suddenly looked alien. Again, this made sense as the current Bayley had never been there. That had been happy, teacher Bayley. Quickly hurrying over to the counter she was dismayed to see that someone had taken the microwave, coffee maker, and even the small TV.

 

“Come on...please…” she breathed as she slowly opened several drawers. She sagged in relief as she found the silverware was still there. Taking the small paring knife she’d been hoping to find. She also grabbed a coffee mug that had once belonged to one of her fellow teachers before slipping out of the room, making sure to leave the light on.

 

Hugging the wall Bayley hurried to the large central library that the school had been built around. It gave a view of much of the school, and as such, she was careful to keep back from the railing. But she was rewarded by the sight of a group of three people making their way along the lower level across the library from her. She also saw that one person, a woman, had made her way to the upper level and was standing with her back to Bayley as she looked into the open classrooms.

 

Setting her face, Bayley began to move.

 

\----------

 

Natalya Neidhart was nearing a panic meltdown.

 

She was stuck, in a closet, in her school that had been invaded by intruders. She’d watched the news, at least until it had stopped being broadcast. She knew much of downtown Chicago was now at the mercy of roaming bands of looters and gangs, but she’d thought her suburb was still clear. She’d been wrong.

 

Worse, her only companion had left her. What had Bayley been thinking? She was only a teacher, yet she seemed as though she were planning to fight the intruders. That was insane! Or was it? The look and voice that Bayley had used when she’d told Natalya to stay put had been enough to give the older woman pause. And Natalya was not someone who got intimidated often.

 

What was going on?

 

Before she could do any more thinking, she suddenly heard a sound. It was a voice...coming from just outside the door to the closet.

 

“Nothing in here!” it said.

 

“No, no, no…” she whispered.

 

“Check the closet!” another voice answered.

 

“No...please…” she pleaded, as tears began to fall. The door opened and, standing framed in the door, she looked up at a man holding a baseball bat.

 

“Well lookee here!” he said, his voice horrible with dark triumph. Stepping forward he grabbed Nattie’s arm with an iron grip.

 

“No! Let me go!” Natalya shouted as she tried to pull away, but to no effect.

 

“Looks like I DID find something worth keeping!” the man laughed as he jerked Nattie violently out of the closet.

 

“Please! Let me go!” Natalya gasped, tears in full flood now.

 

“Oh, honey...you’ll be good and safe with us,” the man laughed. After the darkness of the closet took Nattie a moment to adjust to the lights in the classroom but when she did she saw that there were four other people in the classroom. Three were men, one was a woman, and they were all leering at her.

 

Panicked, Natalya aimed a kick at the man who was holding her. She connected with his groin with enough force to send him toppling backward. She ran, or she tried to. The woman in the group simply stepped in her way and punched her in the stomach. Nattie folder over with a loud huffing gasp.

 

“Now that wasn’t nice,” she heard the woman say as she gagged on the floor.

 

“That fucking bitch!” the man she’d kicked was roaring from where he lay.

 

“You weren’t using it anyway,” the woman who had punched Nattie said. She then knelt beside the principle to say: “That being said, I think I’m going to have to let him keep you now. You owe him that.”

 

All the horrific potential meanings of this statement flashed in Natalya’s mind. It was enough to make her try to scramble to her feet only to get kicked in the rubs, which sent her rolling into a neat row of desks.

 

“Pleaseeee,” she cried as she lay writing on the floor. The woman ignored her as she took a walkie talkie off her belt.

 

“Johnson, Baldelli, we found someone, keep an eye out for anyone else,” she said and then waited for a response. There was none. Frowning, she keyed the walkie talkie again and said: “Hey, you two idiots better answer!”

 

Nothing.

 

“Fuck! Pefanis, go check on those two idiots and punch them both,” the woman groused. One of her men nodded and made his way toward the door. He was carrying a crowbar which he hefted menacingly as he went. Yet he’d vanished from sight for a few moments before there came the metallic sound of the weapon hitting the floor.

 

“What the hell?” one of the remaining men asked.

 

“Get him on his feet!” the woman snapped at him before gesturing to the man Nattie had kicked. As she said this she drew a pistol from her waistband.

 

“Whoever’s out there, cut the shit or I’ll kill this blonde bitch” the woman roared. As if in response, the fire alarm began to blare. What was more, the automated sprinklers went off. Everyone in the classroom flinched as the water suddenly hit them. And then something happened.

 

Nattie wasn’t clear what it was at first. All she knew was that something shattered loudly behind her. She and everyone else in the room looked toward the sound. Then there was a thudding sound as something heavy fell into the desks.

 

“What the fuck?” the woman demanded. Nattie looked up in time to see someone kicking the body of one of the men away. As she looked on in horrified fascination she saw that the man was spurting blood from his neck. She gasped she realized that the person who was lunging away from the dying man was Bayley.

 

Bayley?  

 

Nattie could barely follow what happened next, it happened so quickly. Bayley seemed to fly across the room toward the armed woman. There was a single moment of struggle before the gun went off, causing Nattie to scream. When she looked back she saw the second man, the one she’d kicked, slumping against the wall with a bullet wound in his chest.

 

Looking over she saw that Bayley had the woman’s arm trapped under one of her own, the gun still in her hand pointed toward the man it had shot. Bayley then dragged the woman over her body by her arm and ended up kneeling next to her in control of her arm. Almost casually, Bayley took the gun from her hand. She then gave the woman’s wrist a violent twist, causing her to writhe in pain.

 

Bayley caught Nattie’s eye and said in a very stern voice: “Look away.”

 

Nattie did as she was told, then there were two shots.

 

Three minutes later, Bayley was helping the sodden and shaking Natalya out a side door at the school. The principle was shaking, though not even mostly due to being cold.

 

“You...you killed them,” Nattie whispered, not at all sure who was wearing the face of the woman she’d thought she knew.

 

“Yes, and I need you to listen to me Nattie!...” Bayley said, taking a grip on either side of Nattie’s face and staring directly into her eyes “...Get in your car, go home, barricade every entrance and window. Wait there, I’ll try to check on you as soon as I can, OK?”

 

“Wha-?”

 

“DID YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” Bayley demanded loudly, causing Nattie to jump. All the blonde could do was nod.

 

“OK, you’ll get through this Nattie, you’re strong. Just stay safe and I’ll check on you soon,” Bayley said as she gave Natalya a hug that the blonde was far too confused and scared to return. Then Bayley released her and turned to hurry toward the parking lot.

 

“Where are you going?” Natalya called after her, almost afraid to know the answer.

 

“I uh...I have to go to work.” Bayley said as she lifted her right arm. On its wrist was the wristwatch that Bayley always wore. Natalya was too dazed to fully appreciate that it looked different and certainly didn’t know the significance. But Bayley did.

 

There was a glowing orange circle around the watch face.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, you all heard my pitch after the Sasha chapter. So I'll just leave a quick reminder to kudo, comment, and bookmark!
> 
> But I still have some space to play with here so I'm going to point you to another fic of mine that I think you'll all like. Perseverance is an MMA AU starring our very own Four Horsewomen. Not a fan of MMA, never fear there is plenty for you too. It's a story of living life at it's highest and lowest. Crashing a burning and having to fight and scrap your way back to the top. It starts Becky Lynch and Sasha Banks as two elite mixed martial artists, Charlotte Flair as gym/team owner trying to preserve her legacy, and Bayley Martinez as a reporter struggling to walk the line between work and love.
> 
> Find Perseverance here! - https://archiveofourown.org/works/16333634/chapters/38212784
> 
> One last recommendation! My fabulous co-writer, LiteratureLocker, has penned us an amazing gift with her story 'Fairytales Start with Curses'. There are a lot of Supergirl fics out there but this one is exceptional! And I would say that even if LL wasn't my co-writer and paying me- errr....never mind (JK JK JK It's an amazing read!)
> 
> Find it here - https://archiveofourown.org/works/16394624/chapters/38375795
> 
> And don't forget! There is more to come from our dedicated Division agents, you can expect new content each week!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. No rest for the weary - Charlotte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte gets a new mission from the Commander... and she's a little annoyed by it.

Charlotte groaned as she stomped the snow from her boots before she entered the JTF forward base of operations.The location left a lot to be desired aesthetically and it was drafty as fuck.But it was tactically sound and since the world was currently losing its damn mind, tactics outweighed just about everything else.She blew a breath out through gritted teeth as she jogged down the escalator that was no longer working.The last round of her patrol had gotten her caught in a skirmish and she had to dive behind some cover, tweaking her knee in an awkward way so that it was now screaming at her as she went down the steps. 

 

Once she was at the bottom, she unclipped the shoulder sling of her M4 rifle and carried it into the office located off to the side of the subway platform, trying to hide her slight limp.The “office” was really just a large walk-in supply closet that also housed the fuse boxes for the station.  But it was serving its purpose well.  And it wouldn't be too long before they moved the office to the warehouse across the street where everything else was being set up, leaving the subway station solely as a Division safehouse for agents.

 

Charlotte grunted a greeting to the middle-aged man who was currently sitting behind the folding card table they had been using as a desk.  Thankfully they had found some cleaning supplies, otherwise, Charlotte would absolutely refuse to touch it.  It didn't matter if the world was ending.  Dumpster diving was still dumpster diving.  

 

She leaned her rifle up against the wall near the door in case she needed to leave in a hurry, making sure the muzzle stayed pointing up.Making her way to the chair that was set up in front of the desk, she dropped her sling pack next to the legs and all but flopped, quite unceremoniously, into it.She sniffled a little as she reached up and pulled her beanie off her head, tossing it onto the desk and finally slouching down in the chair.She ran her fingers through her blonde locks quickly, trying to alleviate the discomfort that came with keeping all of that hair matted down for so long. 

 

“Must you sit like that?”

 

She narrowed her eyes at the man who had yet to look up and physically acknowledge her, pulling her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose so she could peer over the top of them.“I just spent the better part of two days running around out there.Let me sit in peace.”

 

Arn Anderson chuckled as he closed the file in front of him.“I’m just saying, it’s not usually how a First Lieutenant would sit.”

 

“Did you miss the part where I was running around this place for the last two days?On two hours of sleep?Completing a mission for you?”Each question she asked bumped her right eyebrow up a little higher. 

 

She yawned and took her sunglasses the rest of the way off, tossing them onto her beanie on the desk.“I can’t be the only agent still active in this area.It’s only been a few weeks since we got deployed.So why do you keep picking on me?” she pouted as she rubbed at her overtired eyes.

 

Arn shook his head solemnly.“I lost contact with another one last night.”

 

That caught her attention, bringing her to an upright sitting position, the concern causing a deep wrinkle between her eyebrows.A development like this couldn’t be good at all.They needed all the agents they could get, and if there was someone out there hunting them, then that was someone Charlotte wanted to go after — personally.If there was one thing she had learned growing up playing competitive sports and then joining the military, it was that you protect your family.Whether you like them or not.

 

And these agents?They were her family.It was possible that none of them saw it the same way, they all basically worked on their own with the possibility of meeting up.But even without knowing all of them, she felt a camaraderie with them, a brotherhood.And if someone was attacking that brotherhood?God help them if Charlotte ever found them.

 

“On top of the three we lost contact with last week?What’s happening to all of them?”

 

He shrugged his shoulders.“Beats me.But that means that our numbers are dropping while the things we have to handle are increasing.And the JTF is spread thin as it is with all the rioting going on.So until we figure out where our agents are disappearing to, or we miraculously get more people, you’re my go-to girl.You should know that by now.”

 

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” she scoffed as she slumped back down in the chair. 

 

Arn’s fingers tapped aimlessly on top of the file in front of him but didn’t explain why he had called Charlotte here in the first place.She simply raised an eyebrow and waited.She knew this particular test, officers did it all the time on base so she knew what he was looking for.Instead of getting nervous and fidgeting, Charlotte sat still and returned his gaze. 

 

He waited a few more seconds before a sly smile spread across his face.“I knew I liked you.”He slid the file across the desk to her.

 

She slapped her hand down on top of it so it didn’t slide off the desk and spun it so it was facing the right way.She tapped her pointer finger on it twice, “you sending me out to find the missing agents?”

 

Anderson shook his head.“Unfortunately no.I’m going to have to use another agent for that.Dr. Bevis wants you for something, but I can’t read that.Might as well be in another language,” he pointed at the file, pausing as Charlotte let out a loud groan when she read what was inside.“So maybe go down and see what she wants.”

 

“Another fucking viral research mission,” Charlotte rolled her eyes and slammed the file closed. 

 

Anderson shrugged his shoulder.“You and I both know that Green Poison has finally shown up.And though it’s contained, for now, Bevis needs _you_ because you’re the only agent who can read the research, so you’ll know what to look for.And she can’t send any of the lab rats out there because… well, they probably won’t come back.”

 

Charlotte pushed herself to her feet, snagged her beanie and aviators off the desk, then bent down to grab her bag.“You think she’ll mind if I go grab some chow and then a few hours sleep before I go talk to her?”

 

It was Arn’s turn to raise his eyebrow, the unspoken _you kidding me?_ was obvious in that motion alone.“You trying to get on Paige’s bad side?”

 

Charlotte’s shoulders slumped in defeat.“No,” she damn near whined.“But I haven’t had a hot meal in two days.”

 

“Take it up with her.You know how important viral research is to finding a cure for this thing.I’d say what you’re holding there takes precedence over anything else.”

 

“You’re right,” she sighed as she straightened and looked at the Commander of the Chicago Division Agents.She hated to admit it, but the sooner they found a cure for this thing, the better.So everything else got put on the back burner.Especially if that something was simple creature comforts of an agent.Looks like her plans for the night would have to be put on hold.She could only hope that her bed would forgive her.“Anything else?”

 

“Don’t you dare salute me.Get going and stay safe out there.”

 

Charlotte threw a salute at him just to spite him before she pivoted on her heel and headed for the door.She remembered to grab her rifle before leaving and headed toward the exit that would lead her to the warehouse next door.

 

Once outside, she slid her sunglasses back on for the short walk to the larger building.She stuffed the beanie into her back pocket and then opened the file again to reread the information that Paige had printed out.From the looks of it, the research was damn near halfway across the city, meaning Charlotte was in for another long day.

 

She pushed open the warehouse door after scanning her Division watch as her credentials to disengage the lock.The medical station was still under construction to the left side of the warehouse, but it was big enough to have three exam tables surrounded by curtains. 

 

“NO.I SAID TAKE TWO OF THESE TONIGHT BEFORE BED.”

 

The sound of Dr. Bevis’ yelling made Charlotte pull up short.It was a well-known fact that the young doctor was a spitfire who refused to take anyone’s shit, but Charlotte had never really heard her raise her voice.Especially when she was dealing with a patient. 

 

She approached the curtain she believed she heard Paige behind and waited a few feet away to give them some semblance of privacy.A few minutes later, the curtain was pulled back and a tall blonde woman dressed in a thrown together JTF uniform was standing in front of her.The two women made eye contact, but Charlotte had never seen her before and would probably never see her again.Unfortunately, JTF members circulated through the cities pretty regularly.So she didn’t bother to introduce herself or even acknowledge the woman with anything more than a polite smile as she pushed past her to talk to the dark-haired doctor still standing behind the curtain, putting unused supplies away.

 

“What was all the yelling about?”

 

Paige jumped slightly, obviously startled by Charlotte’s appearance.“Lord, you gave me a fright.”

 

“Sorry about that.”

 

Dr. Bevis waved it off and continued to organize what was left on the small table next to her.“She was part of a group defending a medical drop when it was attacked.A grenade went off nearby and she temporarily lost her hearing.She’ll be fine.”

 

“Now,” she turned to face the agent.“I’m assuming you’re here about the research, Agent Flair?”

 

Charlotte waved the file a little bit so Bevis could see what she was holding.“You can call me Charlotte.Everyone else does.”

 

“Fair enough.I know you just came back from a mission a short time ago, but I really need this intel.I wouldn’t ask you to go back out so soon if it wasn’t massively important.”

 

Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek to suppress the groan of annoyance that wanted to make itself known.“Of course not, Doc.I’m guessing grabbing a quick bite is out of the question?”

 

The young doctor at least had the decency to look sympathetic.“Unfortunately yes.I really do need that information.”

 

“Okay then.I will go retrieve your intel first, _and then_ grab my first hot meal in two days.”

 

Paige smiled thankfully at her, either completely missing or ignoring the blatant attempt at pity.Charlotte guessed it was the later.  There were days that she couldn't stand the civilians that the JTF had brought in to assist.  They got to stay safe and sound in a heavily protected area with food and water provided.  They also recently got some showers up and running with occasional hot water, which meant that the civilians who worked here usually got first dibs to all of those comforts.  And if you had never been in the field for an extended period of time, you might not fully get the stresses that the agents are under.  

 

She wasn't asking for much.  And it's not like the research was going anywhere.  All she wanted was a hot meal and a few hours of sleep.  Was that really too much to ask?

 

Charlotte considered bringing up just how tired she was to Paige, but then she stopped and actually looked at the younger woman.  She looked just as tired as Charlotte felt.  Charlotte sighed and decided to shelve this particular conversation for another day.  Maybe one where she wouldn't bite the doctor's head off because of her exhaustion.  She took one last look at the dark haired woman and then turned to leave.  She needed to make a stop at the armory real quick if she was going to make a trek across the city.  She needed to fill her magazines and grab a grenade... or two.  You never knew when an explosive would come in handy.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay folks, you are easily the most amazing people a writer could ask for. Seriously, your support of this craziness is unreal. I can honestly say that AttackPlatypus and I are ridiculously grateful for all of the kudos, comments, and bookmarks we have been getting. I can't even begin to thank you enough! You all rock!


	6. On The Hunt - Sasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the world burns around her, Sasha Banks embarks on a hunt for a very dangerous prey.

Sasha Banks shifted uncomfortably as she continued to gaze out through her window.

 

She’d been in this position for almost nine hours, having arrived in the darkest part of the morning. She’d set up her shooting position, made sure of her egress routes, and then settled in. Her throat was dry and her stomach was rumbling slightly, but she ignored these as she’d been trained to. If one was going to do what she was doing now, you couldn't be ducking in and out for bathroom breaks.

 

If her tip was good, and she’d paid enough for it that it ought to be, her target should be arriving relatively soon. The man wasn’t entirely stupid, he did take some steps to disguise his movements, but he was a little stupid. It would have been wrong to suggest that he varied his routine, so much as he varied which routine he used every day.

 

In this, lay Sasha’s opportunity.

 

She was laying on her belly on top of a desk in the raised office of a large warehouse. She was well back from the window and had gone above and beyond to conceal her presence. Even so, she knew she’d get one shot. If she missed, he’d get behind cover and vanish. Then she’d be left to track him down yet again, a process that had taken almost a week this time around.

 

But Sasha wasn’t that worried. She never missed.

 

Her target today was a nasty piece of work, but very deadly for all of that. She’d be glad to have him off her list. But that would only happen if he showed. Sasha settled in, intending to wait as long as necessary.

 

For most people, this sort of waiting would be nearly impossible. They would fidget, their mind would drift, or they’d simply get bored. Not so for Sasha, she was used to this and she possessed the rare ability to focus every aspect of her being on one particular goal to the exclusion of all others. This made her ideal as a sniper, but it also helped that she simply enjoyed her job.

 

Ever since her watch had burned orange, Sasha had been in her element. A part of her actually worried about this, what did it say about her that she was thriving best during the collapse of society? But this was a small part, most of Sasha was filled with the satisfaction of someone going to a task that she was born to.

 

The last few years had been tough, but not in the way many would assume. Sasha had even enjoyed dancing at Malenko’s in a small way, and she didn’t do it because she didn’t have other opportunities. She did it because was well aware of the effect her looks had on most men (and some women) and recognized it was her path of least resistance to money. No, her life wasn’t some kind of tragedy, it had just been kind of boring.

 

She’d had her work, she’d had a few relationships, and she’d had a few hobbies. But none of it had been...exciting. How that had that changed for the better recently.

 

This musing had only taken up the top one or two percent of her brain, most of it still laser-focused on her target. So when she detected movement through her scope the extra thoughts blew away like a thin wisp of smoke in a windstorm. She was all business now.

 

Peering carefully through her rifle she saw that it was indeed her target, moving cautiously out of an alley and into the street. He was dressed in a navy blue shell jacket with cargo pants. He had a backpack and ballcap on, but the most noticeable aspect of his appearance was the M16 in his arms. He was moving across the street like a wary deer, constantly checking his surroundings.

 

He was big, he was strong, and he was a dangerous man. To most people, he would have been formidable to the point of near invincibility. Yet today, in this contest that he didn’t even know he was waging, he was dead.

 

“Boom,” Sasha whispered as she squeezed the trigger with her middle finger.

 

Her SRS was, of course, suppressed but it still made a satisfying ‘chunk’ sound as it bucked in Sasha’s arms. But she kept the scope on his face even after it exploded into chunks of bloody pulp. Quick as thought Sasha cycled the bolt on her rifle, chambering another round should it be necessary. It wasn’t, it never was. You didn’t survive having the upper third of your head cored.

 

Sasha didn’t move or even give any sort of sign that she was aware that she’d accomplished her task. She was straining every sense she had with all her might. There was always the chance that today of all days he had brought back up and she was waiting to see if there would be any kind of reaction.

 

When there hadn’t been one after five minutes, Sasha quickly packed up and moved to her secondary location. It was also possible that any backup her target had brought might not be reckless amateurs who would run out into the street after their obviously dead boss. If that was the case, then they might be circling around to her suspected position at this very minute.

  
Moving with all the noise of a sheet dragged over ice, Sasha relocated to the roof of an adjacent building and once again waited. Nothing. But it didn't cost her anything to be sure, so she waited still longer. Still nothing. Almost an hour had passed since she’d first pulled the trigger before she finally made her way cautiously down to the second level of the building. Here she darted a look out a window before relocating to another and then another. Finally satisfied she made her way out onto the street.

 

Not bothering to look at the remnants of the man’s head, Sasha grabbed hold of his pack straps and dragged the body quickly out of the street and into the building she’d just left. When she’d done she quickly rifled his pockets and relieved him of his ammo, grenades, food, water, and a few other pieces of tech.

 

She left the building through a rear entrance, already thinking about how best to find her next target. Still, she allowed herself a small grin of triumph as she looked down at the souvenir she’d taken off the body.

 

A wristwatch with a large face with a dark orange band around it.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd Sasha is off, out into the big world hunting...Division Agents? What the what? Did LiteratureLocker switch the script?
> 
> What is Sasha up to? Has she gone rogue? Is she playing a deeper game? What does this mean for her relationships with the other Horsewomen? Is she maybe having just a BIT too much fun?
> 
> If you're liking what you've read so far (and if you've read LL's chapters I can't see how you wouldn't, I am SO GOOD at finding coattails to ride!) we'd both really appreciate it if you'd consider leaving a kudo or bookmarking this story. But most of all, we LOVE to hear from you! We try to get back to everyone in the comments so don't be shy! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Straight Fire is Born - Becky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Becky's keeping herself busy in post-Dollar Flu Chicago, as whispers of the protector of the people "Straight Fire" start to take hold

The cold wind blew down the street, harshly moving the snow that hadn’t been stomped down under foot until it came to rest against a series of abandoned cars.  The silence felt as heavy and oppressive as the mood throughout the city.Even though Green Poison hadn’t taken more than a hundred people in Chicago yet, the citizens took the immediate quarantine of the city as a free pass to run amok. 

 

The creation of the fences that held everyone in had been swift and harsh, coming into existence overnight while the population slept.It had been preventative and precautionary, a way to keep the rest of the state from getting the Dollar Flu.It was a way to keep everyone outside the fence safe.

 

The problem with that plan was that it left everyone inside vulnerable and constantly under attack from different factions that were rising as law enforcement and the JTF failed. 

 

And failing they were. 

 

So now the once vibrant streets were empty, barren, looking almost war-torn as cars and barriers were left strewn about.People kept to themselves mostly these days, safely tucked away inside, casting an eerie calm over the streets around them.

 

_I was born on a Dublin street_

_Where the Royal drums would beat_

_The loving English feet_

_They tramped all over us,_

 

The first thing they taught all prospective Division agents during training was that stealth was imperative to the mission.Remaining hidden, being able to attack from the shadows would help the agents stay alive.Especially considering the circumstances the agents would be deployed under.And most agents lived by those guidelines.

 

Becky Lynch wasn’t most agents. 

 

She preferred to make as much noise as possible, attract as much attention to herself as she could.It made hunting that much easier if the prey came to you.Plus she was trying to send a message.

 

This was _her_ city and she was _taking it back_.

 

These were her people, and she was going to fight for them.The consequences be damned.

 

She continued to sing the old Irish rebel song as she carved Brigid’s knot into the building’s door. 

 

_And every single night_

_When me father come home tight_

_He’d invite the neighbors out_

_With this chorus:_

 

She had taken to carving the symbol in places that she had reclaimed for the JTF.The first one had actually been done as a joke.She had been bored and there were some flammable substances laying around, so Becky had created the design right outside the door of the building, lit it and damn near blew her own hand off. 

 

The result had been a shaky, poorly executed knot scorched in the sidewalk.Regardless of how it looked, Becky had been proud of her handiwork and had continued on with her day. 

 

Then the rumors started. 

 

At first, they had been quiet, small, like whispers that would be lost on the wind if you weren’t paying attention.The citizens began talking about how a family in desperate need of a place to stay had stumbled upon the building and knew it was a haven in the midst of the chaos.After all, why would someone mark the building with the symbol for the Goddess of fire and healing, if it wasn’t safe to go in? 

 

It had been a complete coincidence that the building had fallen right in the middle of the area that Becky patrolled regularly.So to the people who lived nearby, it seemed as though the building was under specific protection, some even believing it was Brigid herself who was keeping the family safe.The rumors had only snowballed from there.

 

Becky was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth and had put the rumors to good use.The factions that were exerting their power over the citizens were taking away their safety and security.And that was something that pissed Becky off to no end.The world was going to shit fast enough on its own.The last thing these people needed was to live out their final days terrified of the power hungry and greedy assholes who had seamlessly stepped into the void created by the fall of the government.So if Becky could provide safe places for people to rest for a while, she would do it. 

 

And if she got to set things on fire in the process… well, she wasn’t going to complain about that either. 

 

She started marking every building that she cleared, every block she took back.It wasn’t an easy task, sometimes it took hours to gain back one inch, days to take back one building.And everything she took back for the city was marked, placing it securely under the protection of Straight Fire.God help whoever ignored that fact.

 

She finished carving the knot in the door of the office building, slid the knife back into its sheath and made a mental note to sharpen the blade later that night.It was taking a beating with how often she was carving her mark now.She then carefully opened up the container of Pyrodex she carried in her backpack. 

 

Granted, she could be using the black powder alternative for more than scorching these symbols into buildings.But once she perfected the recipe, it wasn’t too hard to reproduce the powder.It just required a trip to the local high school chemistry lab.Looters and scavengers weren’t smart enough to raid the chemicals to make other substances. 

 

She pressed the right amount of powder into the carving, her thumb turning black in color as the powder collected there.It had been a close call the first time she used the Pyrodex to scorch the wood.Like an idiot, she had used her right thumb to press it into the design, then used the exposed digit to light her Zippo. 

 

It had taken a few days for the burns to heal.

 

To say that she was willing to go to extreme lengths to prove a point was an understatement.She had almost lost her hand and a thumb to simply send a message.She had to admit that it was a little over the top, but then again that was where Becky operated best.Nothing about her screamed subtly, her fiery orange hair usually made sure of that. 

 

Becky chuckled to herself and screwed the cap back on the Pyrodex container and gently placed it back into her pack.She could hear her instructors in her head warning her against placing explosives in her pack on her back.Something about it opening her up to a weak spot or something.If that was the case, the Pyrodex would be the least of her concerns.She definitely had more than a few things that went boom on her person. 

 

A noise echoed loudly in the otherwise still street.Becky stopped singing and reached out for her S&W M&P10, her eyes slowly scanning the area around her.It was hard to tell where the noise had come from, especially with how close all of these buildings were. 

 

What could only be described as a yelp of surprise echoed around her, bouncing off of the buildings.Becky picked up her rifle, adjusted her backpack and stood, her black leather duster swinging behind her with her movement.She pulled her aviators down over her eyes, moving the now loose strands of hair from her eyes.The only problem with being out here for days was that the braids on the left side of her head had a hard time keeping all of her hair contained.

 

She slid the strap of her rifle over her head and shoulder, her thumb flicking off the safety as she moved.The last thing she needed was to be caught off guard out here.She was a good distance from the JTF headquarters and thus any sort of first aid they would be able to provide. 

 

She was on her own.And she preferred it that way.JTF agents and other Division agents, they just tended to get in her way. 

 

She moved silently between the abandoned cars, making sure to use their engine blocks as cover.She leaned out slightly, making sure to slice the pie and keep most of her body behind the sturdiest part of the car. Her eyes scanned the area carefully but efficiently.She still didn’t know where the sound had come from, only that it was a noise that someone usually made when they were in trouble.

 

About a block ahead of her position, Becky saw three people in what looked like altered National Guard uniforms standing over a citizen on their knees.She narrowed her eyes as her grip unconsciously tightened on the grip of her rifle.This was exactly why she had agreed to join the Division when she had been approached.The abuse of power that those soldiers were exerting rubbed her in all the wrong ways. 

 

“We’re not going to ask you again,” one of the soldiers said as they pointed a pistol in the citizen’s face.“Where are the supplies you’ve been collecting?”

 

“I… I don’t have any.”

 

“We saw you with a bag earlier.Where did you put it?”

 

“Please, I have a daughter.Just let me go,” the man begged with his hands slowly rising above his head. 

 

It ignited the fire in her gut and pulled a growl from her throat.She moved from her crouch and moved quickly but efficiently about three-quarters of the block until she was close enough to line up a shot on the soldiers while remaining confident that she wouldn’t hit the citizen.

 

She slammed her back against the hood of a car that was angled just the right way to provide her not only cover but a shooting platform as well.Taking a deep, steadying breath she pivoted and dropped her right knee to the ground, and brought her arms up so they were resting on the hood. 

 

She exhaled slowly and lined her shot up with the ACOG scope, making sure the first squeeze of the trigger would be instantly fatal.She wanted to end this as quickly as possible without getting the man caught in the crossfire.She flexed her trigger finger a few times outside the trigger guard and then slid it in, gently pressed against the trigger itself and took up the slack. 

 

She took a slow inhale and then pressed the trigger the final few centimeters, barely moving as the rifle jumped against her shoulder.A loud bang followed milliseconds later followed by the sound of the body hitting the ground.

 

The man scrambled from where he was kneeling until he was behind the cover of a barrier nearby.The other two soldiers reacted immediately their rifles up and spinning to face her. 

 

“Fuck me,” Becky swore, her accent becoming more pronounced as bullets peppered the car she was kneeling behind.She took a quick breath and fired off a volley of bullets meant to force the remaining two to scatter.Which they did with alarming precision, one moving to cover on his left, the other on the right.

 

_Not just wearing them uniforms then, are we?_ Becky thought to herself as she quickly moved so she wasn’t in the middle of the street.She took a quick look from behind the bus she was using as a barrier between her and the two individuals. 

 

A movement to her right had her shifting and sliding along the side of the bus towards the back.She kept herself moving in a low crouch to keep her head clear of the windows.It was moments like this that she hated her bright orange hair — it made her super easy to track in tactical situations.It was something that had been her downfall several times in training. 

 

Knowing that she wouldn’t have the proper angle to fire on the person currently trying to flank her if she leaned out around the back of the bus, Becky improvised and knelt down behind one of the tires.Moving carefully to her stomach, she cradled the rifle against her shoulder and focused down the scope.Waiting until the person’s knee fell between the crosshairs, Becky pressed the trigger once it was lined up properly. 

 

A scream echoed down the street as the soldier stumbled and fell, the bullet tearing through their left knee completely obliterating it. 

 

Becky took no real pleasure in what she did next, but a message had to be sent.As the soldier lay on the ground, gripping their shattered knee and groaning in pain, Becky squeezed the trigger once, twice, three times.She kept it up until no less than ten bullets riddled the now unmoving body. 

 

She didn’t even hesitate as she rolled to her right, settling on her back with her rifle up, her finger already pressing on the trigger.A look of shock settled on the third soldier’s face as three bullets ripped through his ballistic vest.He dropped to his knees and then slumped over to his side, dead before he settled on the ground. 

 

Becky rolled over onto her stomach again so she could get to her feet.She reached into the side BDU pocket of her pants and pulled out a sharpie marker.For things like this, a quick message would have to do.She didn’t know if there were more of them in the area and she wasn’t about to wait around and find out. 

 

Making quick work of drawing Brigid’s knot on all three soldier’s foreheads, she bent down to pick up a backpack that had been haphazardly tossed under a car.She walked it over to where the man was hiding and handed it to him.He simply looked up at her in awe, “you’re her, aren’t you?”

 

She didn’t answer him.Instead, she dropped the bag in his lap and turned to walk away.“Go take care of your little girl,” she called over her shoulder as she made her way back to the building she was originally marking. 

 

_Come out ye black and tans_

_Come out and fight me like a man_

_Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders_

 

She continued to sing as she pulled a lighter from her pocket and stopped at the door long enough to place the flame against the Pyrodex packed into the design.As it caught fire, she sauntered away, the final lines of the chorus echoing through streets that were quiet once again.

 

_Tell her how the IRA_

_Made you run like hell away,_

_From the green and lovely lanes_

_of Killashandra._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 600 hits! You guys are seriously the best. I can't really speak for AP, but I know that watching that number climb has been amazing! The love you all are showing has been unreal and that only makes us want to write faster. I really cannot thank you all enough.
> 
> Also, the song that Becky was so obnoxiously singing to draw unnecessary attention to herself (it's Becky, are we really surprised?) is an Irish rebel song written by Dominic Behan titled "Come Out, Ye Black and Tans".


	8. New world, New You - Bayley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bayley Martinez receives her activation orders but finds that world around her as sink further than she realized.

Bayley went directly from the school to her assigned depot.

  
As part of each division agent’s training, they were given the location of a specific ‘depot’ to which they were to report upon activation. There they would pick up their equipment and receive a briefing about the current situation.

 

Bayley’s depot was located in a Kerman’s. Or, more specifically, underneath it. The coffee shop was closed, as was every other business in the area. Closed or not, people had apparently decided they couldn’t go without their coffee because the glass in windows and the door had all been smashed in. Sighing sadly at this, Bayley ducked inside and made her way carefully to the back.

 

Opening a door marked ‘employee’s only’ she descended into a dark basement. Fortunately, the lights still worked and it only took Bayley a short amount of time to find what she was looking for. There was a row of lockers set against one wall which Bayley approached. Opening each door she spotted the tiny reader built into the underside of the upper shelf of one of the lockers. Holding her watch under the device there was a low thrumming sound followed by a high chirping sound.

 

There was a loud clunking and grinding as the whole bank of lockers suddenly sank from view to reveal a set of steel double doors behind them. Blue light from a scanner over the doors swept up and down her body before there was another chirp and the doors opened. Stepping through Bayley found herself in what had once been a well-appointed command bunker.

 

One wall was devoted to a large bank of monitors and computers, though all the screens were dark. The wall opposite the door had pegboards and shelves that were supposed to contain all the tools and equipment needed to maintain an agent’s gear. Yet they seemed to have been stripped clean. But by who? Only division agents were supposed to have access to this place. Yet Bayley couldn’t accept the idea that one of them had done it.

 

It the wall to her left that interested her most, however. It was lined with tall cylinders, each about the size of a coffin. They were slate grey and had doors with no handles. She saw that of the seven cylinders, six were open and empty. Above each was stenciled a name.

 

  1. _Orton_
  2. _Kim_
  3. _Von Erich_
  4. _Colon_
  5. _Ali_
  6. _Dashwood_
  7. _Martinez_



 

Bayley approached this last one and once again held her watch. There was a short pause in which her heart sank as she wondered if the machinery had stopped working. But then can the loud metallic clunk and the door slid aside to reveal her kit.

 

Bayley had been a support gunner in the special tactics squadron and when she’d been asked what sort of gear she wanted waiting for her, she’d ask for similar equipment. A heavy vest with thigh and upper arm protection hung on hooks along with her equipment harness and belt. Her Ares Shrike 5.56 LMG hung beside her vest along with a generous supply of ammo. At the bottom of the tube were several handy pieces of SHD tech.

 

It took Bayley a few minutes to dress and then stow all her equipment in the correct places. When she stood again it was with more effort thanks to the many many pounds of gear she was now carrying. But the weight felt good, comforting. She now felt ready to take on anything she had to as part of her mission. The final touch was her helmet, which she clipped to the side of her pack. She knew this was a risk but the helmet would affect her hearing and she felt she needed her senses at 100%.

 

But the equipment was only half of what she was supposed to find here, she was also supposed to receive a briefing, yet there obviously wasn’t anyone else here to deliver one. Then she noticed that one of the computers on the desk opposite her had a green light on. Approaching it she hit a key experimentally and one of the monitors sprung to life. On the screen was the face and shoulders of an Asian woman obviously standing this very room.

 

“ _Hello Agent, my name is Commander Gail Kim, I was supposed to be your area commander in charge of coordinating division activities in this part of Chicago. But...well that isn’t how things worked out. I can’t say as much as I’d like since anyone could find this but I’ll give you the basics. Our whole operation is fucked, it seems the first wave is all either dead, MIA, or have flipped on us. Worse, some of the second wave is already heading that way.”_

 

Bayley couldn’t do any more than just gape. She understood the words but that was different than her being willing to accept them. Division agents turning on each other? The first wave wiped out? It couldn’t be true.

 

_“I hope I’m still alive as you’re watching this and if I am you can bet I’m still out there trying to accomplish our original mission. If so, then I hope we can meet someday and then we can help try to fix this mess. If I’m dead...well, I hope I can help you this way. The computer is sending your ISAC a data dump with everything I’ve been able to learn about the area. I hope it’s still current for you. Anyway, I need to get moving. Best of luck agent, hope to see you around. Just hit control-R on the keyboard when you’re done and it will cue this message up for anyone to come after you.”_

 

With that, the screen went black. Bayley was left with nothing to do but to try and digest everything she’d just heard. It was a LOT to take in. Waking the computer again she synched her ISAC to it and proceeded to skim through the data that Kim had left her. She filed most of it away for later study but one thing did stick out to her. The location of a nearby school, Sarah E.Goode STEM academy, that, at least when this file had been created, was the home to a large community of survivors. Kim had also noted that if they didn’t get help soon they would likely be wiped out.

 

The thought was very sobering to Bayley and brought up some unpleasant reminders of her past. But eventually, she was able to remember to hit the command on the keyboard to re-cue the message. This was necessary because she was not the last one to get here. Looking back toward the tubes she saw that one had yet to be opened. It was the one under the name ‘ _T. Dashwood’._ Bayley debated for a while before she took a small notebook and pencil out of one of a pocket on her vest. Returning the table holding the computers she scribbled a quick note.

 

_Agent,_

 

_My name is Bayley Martinez, I guess I was the last one here before you. If you get this I’ll be heading to the school mentioned in Commander Kim’s message (on the computer behind you). If you’d like to work together come find me there, if there isn’t anything I can do for them I’ll leave some sign for you._

 

She dated the note and then taped it to the front of the final tube. She hoped that whoever T. Dashwood was they would arrive soon and be able to come to help her. The news she’d received in Kim’s briefing had been enough to convince her that this was a problem beyond any one person. Even division agents. She left the depot and then made sure the double doors and lockers were in place behind her. She didn’t want anyone else violating the sanctity of the place. Especially if there was another agent still coming.

 

She was exiting the employee’s only door when she heard a loud crash from the front of the shop. Lifting her weapon cautiously she made her way forward in time to see a man trying to scramble over the counter to escape.

 

“Freeze!” she barked. The man froze where he was, half on the counter and half off. “Off the counter and turn around slowly,” Bayley told him, her gun not wavering a centimeter. The man did as he was told even as Bayley moved behind the counter herself so he couldn’t drop down behind it. To her surprise he found herself staring at a teenager, probably no older than 16.

 

“Are you a cop?” he asked in a scared voice.

 

“Sort of,” Bayley said as she looked him up and down. He looked terrible, as though he’d been sleeping outside despite the season. He had what appeared to be a fistful of sugar packets clutched in his hand. “Where are your parents?” Bayley asked him.

 

The only response she got was a brief flare of anger in his eyes and a long sullen silence. Of course, what else? The Green Poison had come down hard on everyone. Bayley’s heart went out to the boy and everyone like him. She wanted to step forward and hug him but she knew that wasn’t the right move in this case. Sighing she lowered her weapon and opened a pouch on one of her pack straps. Pulling a ration bar out she tossed it to the kid.

 

“Go find the JTF, they’ll take care of you. Don’t steal anymore,” she said sternly. To her surprise, he just laughed at her.

 

“The JTF? Yeah sure, whatever lady. Can I go?” he asked insolently.

 

“Get out of here,” Bayley told him, he shot an eye back behind the counter but she hefted her weapon and he made good on his escape. The kid’s reaction to her mention of the JTF was disturbing. She’d done her best to stay apprised of the situation but once the news had stopped this had been very difficult.  She’d known the JTF had been hard pressed but…

 

She shook her head, one problem at a time. She had to get to the school. If there were still survivors there then she would offer what help she could. If not, she’d make her plans from there.

 

The school was about three miles from her present location, which would take her some time to cover with all her gear even if she could move at full speed. She couldn’t however, simple prudence told her that exposing herself by walking right down the street was a bad idea. It might normally have taken Bayley a bit over an hour to cover the distance with her gear. As it was she was on the move for closer to three.

 

Her progress was very halting. She stopped behind cover often, just to listen to the air around her. This part of the city seemed to be deserted, but that didn’t mean it was. As she traveled she automatically noted sobering details of the world around her. Chicago wasn’t dying, it seemed to have already died.

 

There was trash everywhere. Obviously, garbage pickup had ended fairly early in the crisis and without any notion of where to put their refuse, people had taken to just stacking in bags in the street. Even in the cold air of a Chicago winter, the smell was powerful, Bayley couldn’t imagine what it might be like when it got warm.

  
Then there were the vehicles. Cars, trucks, vans, motorcycles, and more were strewn everywhere. Most seemed to have been abandoned when the owners realized that they wouldn’t be able to leave the city. Others had been driven off the roads and onto sidewalks and shoulders, the owners obviously trying to circumvent the traffic. Regardless, Bayley could see that it would take weeks to clear the major thoroughfares. If it ever got that point.

 

Worst of all were the boxes. She passed dozens and then many hundreds of long black boxes. It wasn’t hard to figure out what they were, coffins. Judging by their size they each held five or six bodies. Almost every open area she passed had been turned into a mass grave, none of which had been finished. Some had huge holes and construction equipment beside them, but all had been abandoned before they could be filled in.

 

The sight was more than heartbreaking. It was a graphic representation of what Bayley had been thinking. Chicago wasn’t dying, it was dead. The sheer number of coffins and the untold number of dead inside them left her feeling so helpless. What could she do against a tragedy on this scale?

 

But, Bayley Martinez was a naturally buoyant personality. And once she’d left the final mass grave behind she began to perk back up. Yes, her home was in shambles, but this was why she’d joined the division. When everything else had gone to shit, she was supposed to be the one who put it all back together. All she had to do was figure out how.

 

Officially the division was a continuity of government organization. Bayley was supposed to be working to protect and strengthen what formal authority remained. But she had a different idea. The way Bayley saw it, there could be no government if there wasn’t a people to form it. If she wanted to preserve order the best thing she could do then would be to protect them.

 

This was why she’d chosen to head for the school and not to locate the JTF. She felt she’d be able to do the most good here. She also had to admit that she didn’t like the idea of joining up with a formal command structure. She was very suspicious of formal authority in general and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep herself from being absorbed into any organization she met.

 

Since she wasn’t sure what kind of reception she’d meet at the school Bayley decided on a cautious approach. Leaving the road she’d been following, she circled around to the North so she could make her final approach to the school from the cover of the neighborhoods that surrounded it. This added some time to her trip but when she finally got the last row of houses before the street the school was on, she was grateful.

 

It seemed that there were still survivors at the school and that she wasn’t the only one interested in them.

 

She was crouched behind some low bushes planted along the side of one the houses. From this position, she was able to see that a makeshift barrier had been built around a section of the school’s parking lot which she assumed led the main entrance. It wasn’t much of a wall, just a row of cars that had been parked end to with a hodgepodge of materials stacked against them. Nevertheless, she did see several people standing atop the wall armed with firearms. There was a large gate of similar ramshackle construction across the turnoff from the road into the. Clustered in front of the gate was a group, seven people.

 

Bayley studied both groups, the ones defending and the ones at the gate. The ones on the wall were scared, even a cursory look through her binoculars showed her that. They were also outnumbered, she saw only four defenders in evidence. By contrast, their guests had all the smug assurance of people who knew they had the upper hand. They looked like a rough bunch of men and women, their whole body language betraying how eager they were to use the guns they all carried.

 

I took Bayley a minute but she did eventually manage to inch close enough where she could catch some of the conversation being had. The leader of the group outside the walls seemed to be making demands of the leader of the defenders. This man, with dark hair and beard and muscular frame, was doing a good job of keeping the fear off his face. But his body language told Bayley he was terrified.

 

“...Going to make me come in there and drag it out of you?” the leader of the ones in the street jeered up the leader of the defenders.

 

“We don’t have that much, we’ll...we’ll give you what we can but-” the bearded man answered but he got cut off.

 

“Awww I think you might be holding out on us, that hurts. But in case you aren’t we’ll do you a favor. We’ll come in there and look for ourselves,” the man on the street sneered. He was big, well over six feet with powerful arms which, for some reason, he was displaying in the winter cold. At these words the defenders shifted uncomfortably, several muzzles twitching. The man in the street roared in laughter at this but it was a woman to his left that spoke up.

 

“Oh, are the babies going to fight us?” she jeered in a mock baby voice. This drew a chorus of guffaws from the people around her as they began lifting their own guns. The defenders did the same and Bayley realized it was time for her to act.

 

Not that she’d been idle during the conversation. From her concealed position she’d been using a small device from her belt to target each of the people in the street. The device worked with her ISAC system and allowed her to ‘tag’ people or objects for the computer. In this case, she’d marked them as hostiles. This was important as she pulled her SHD tech turret from where it was clipped to the bottom of her pack. She set the device on the ground and activated it just as the guns were being drawn in the street.

 

Despite her distraction, it was Bayley who fired first. Her shrike LMG was a marvelous instrument of destruction, capable of spitting out seven hundred 5.56 rounds a minute, Bayley preferred to use a 200-round pouch magazine which gave her plenty of shots to play with. When combined with her turret she could pump out an enormous volume of fire. And this was the situation that the group in the street found themselves in.

 

By the time they even realized they were under attack from behind, three of them were dead. As both Bayley and her turret got another, the remaining two ran. Bayley considered deploying the attack drone that was fixed to her pack and sending it after them but she decided against it. She’d seen more than enough death that day, and besides it might be useful to have those two tell their friends that the school had a new protector.

 

That didn’t mean she was going to take her eyes off them though. When they’d both run a decent way the same woman who’d spoken before turned around and shouted toward the gate: “This isn’t over!”. Bayley responded by shooting overhead and this got her running again.

 

During the whole fight, she doubted the people on the wall had fired a shot. And now that it was just them and Bayley they looked at the newcomer with mixed expressions of fear and awe. Making sure to move very slowly as she did, Bayley retrieved her turret and collapsed it. She then slung her weapon over her should and turned to face the gate.

 

“You guys alright?” she called. No one answered for a while, they just exchanged nervous glances. Eventually, though it was the bearded man who spoke.

 

“Thanks to you it seems...can I ask what you want?” he spoke the last words very delicately as though he were concerned Bayley might be offended by the question.

 

“To help you,” she responded truthfully. This caused another exchange of glances, though now they were definitely skeptical.

 

“Please don’t think we’re not grateful for the assistance but….it’s...rare to meet someone who wants to help around here,” the man called back. The wall where he was standing was much higher than elsewhere and Bayley realized that it was built against a large box truck.

 

“You haven’t met me yet…” Bayley answered, “...I’m a division agent, helping people like you is kind of my job.”

 

Confused muttering before the man asked: “What’s the Division?”

 

Bayley bit her lip as she thought about how to answer this. “That...very complicated,” she said finally. She thought for a while longer and added: “I’m willing to disarm myself if you like, all I’m asking is a chance to talk to whoever is in charge.”

 

The man she’d been speaking to had a quick consultation with two other people. They seemed to be having an argument centering around Bayley herself judging by the pointing fingers. Bayley waited patiently until the group broke apart. “You could have just let the demons kill us if you wanted to get in here, or done it yourself. So we’re going to trust you and let you in.”

 

Bayley nodded humbly. “Thank you.” She waited as the gates were dragged slowly open enough for her to slip inside. Once through she was met by the same man.

 

“As for who is in change….well the others around here seem to think that’s me. Bobby Roode,” he introduced himself as she shook Bayley’s hand.

 

“Bayley Martinez,” she answered. She had to work to keep herself from automatically gazing around her to analyze the defensibility of the place, she didn’t want to leave the wrong impression.

 

“Not ‘Agent’ Martinez?” Roode asked in a tone that made Bayley pay attention. It wasn’t rude, but it had a definite undertone of skepticism.

 

“If you like, but it feels weird to worry too much over a title,” she answered. Roode nodded approvingly at this though his expression didn’t change.

 

“You might find that the people around here aren’t the biggest fan of titles, in particular, the government sort,” he said.

 

“Then Bayley it is,” Bayley answered brightly. This finally managed to turn up the corners of Roode’s mouth.

 

“Come on in, you must be cold,” Roode said as she beckoned for her to follow. They entered the school and turned immediately to the right into what looked like the former administration offices. Roode led her into a large office which she assumed had once belonged to the principle, but he didn’t sit behind the desk. Instead, he pulled a chair toward himself and sat backward in it before nodding Bayley down into another one.

 

“Thank you,” she said as she shrugged off her pack and set it beside her. She couldn’t sit comfortably with it on, but she wouldn’t let it out of her reach.

 

“You hungry? Thirsty?” Roode asked her.

 

“No, thanks,” Bayley lied, she was actually very hungry but she didn’t want to ask the man for anything yet.

 

“So...you want to help?” Roode asked, managing to make the question sound more like an accusation.

 

“I do, it’s why I was activated,” Bayley acknowledged.

 

“I’ve never heard of your organization, what are you about? Military?” Roode asked.

 

“Kind of…” Bayley answered before proceeding to give the man a reasonably detailed summary of the Division and its mission. As she finished she could tell that Roode wasn’t impressed.

 

“So...another governmental agency that wants to come in and try to ‘fix’ things around here? That hasn’t worked out very well for us in the past,” he said.

 

“What happened?” Bayley asked, realizing she had a hard road ahead of her to win this man’s trust.

 

“What happened?” Roode asked incredulously. “Let’s see, when the Green Poison arrived the government tried to fence Chicago in like a zoo. As people died they chose to focus on blocking off streets and evacuating politicians rather than keeping order. The JTF decided it needed all ‘policing assets’ in downtown and stripped the outer communities of our protection. The demons and other groups are in full control out here. Oh and worst of all, we’re starving and have kids to think about in here.”

 

“That is bad…” Bayley muttered.

 

“So I think you understand why we’re skeptical of anyone showing up from the government and saying they want to help,” Roode said sternly. Bayley nodded, she got where he was coming from. She’d probably have felt the same in his position. But right now she had to find a way to earn his trust. If how he’d described the situation was accurate, they needed her.

 

“Then what about just accepting help from Bayley Martinez, a girl from Chicago,” she asked. Roode just raised an eyebrow at her so she went on: “Look, my apartment is five miles from here. I used to work at the Magnet School on Richardson. I care about what happens here because this is my home.”

 

Roode studied her quietly for a while before he asked: “What did you do at the school?”

 

“I taught 3rd grade,” Bayley answered, holding his gaze.

 

“A teacher? Really?” Roode asked, sounding legitimately surprised. Bayley understood his surprise, she had arrived carrying a machine gun.

 

“Yeah, got my license after leaving the military,” she explained.

 

“I was a teacher here….” Roode said slowly “...Sometimes it feels like I still am.” Several responses suggested themselves to Bayley but she chose to remain silent. She sensed that Roode was debating with himself.

 

“Look…” he finally spoke “...I can’t deny we need help, and if you’re what you say we could really use you. If you start helping out around here maybe you’ll start changing some minds.”

 

“What can I do?” Bayley asked, eager to bring the conversation forward to this point. If she could get Roode focusing on this he’d be less likely to kick her out.

 

“Well, our situation is bad…” Roode said with a sigh “...We’re very low on food, medicine, and just about everything else. You also saw that we don’t have the means to defend ourselves properly. The school is still getting power but it’s only a matter of time before someone gets the idea to cut us off. The school has a backup but it needs fuel.”

 

Things were worse than Bayley had been hoping but she kept this from her face as she said: “So you need me to locate food, medicine, other supplies, and weapons?” When Roode nodded at this she asked: “Is there any good news?”

 

Roode chuckled dryly at this but nodded. “This is a STEM school so some of the class projects could be useful. We have a rainwater collection system that keeps us well supplied with fresh water. When it gets sunnier we might be able to modify the senior class’ solar project to help us generate some power.”

 

“But we need to get by until then,” Bayley said, deliberately using ‘we’.

 

“Exactly.”

 

“Got any leads on this stuff?” she asked as she stood.

 

Roode looked taken aback. “You’re going right now?” he asked.

 

“No time like the present,” Bayley told him, she was eager to get to work on earning these people’s trust.

 

“Well then…” Roode said, still sounding surprised “...There are several gas station convenience stores around us and even a Sam's Club though that’s crawling with demons. If you hit those that would probably set us up well for food and supplies. Medicine will probably have to come from a pharmacy or clinic but you can bet those are occupied. As for weapons…” He trailed off here.

 

“Yes?” Bayley prompted him.

 

“One of our white whale projects has been to try and explore the CPD’s weapons disposal facility nearby. But it’s going to crawling with demons or others and we just don’t have the people or skill to get in,” Roode explained.

 

“Why do you call them demons?” Bayley asked something she’d been curious about for a while.

 

“It’s what they call themselves, not very original but accurate,” Roode answered. Bayley nodded and filed the information away.

 

“Any other ‘white whale’ projects?” she asked.

 

“Well, assuming we survive until then we will want to try and put some crops in the ground in the spring. So if you can find us seeds and fertilizer it would be great but that’s a low priority right now. We could also use lumber or tools to help us improve and expand our wall.”

 

“Anything else?”

 

“Isn’t that enough to start with?” Roode asked.

 

“Oh….I may surprise you,” Bayley said with a grin as she slung her pack and strode out of the office, whistling as she went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 700 hits? Surely there's been some mistake! A GLORIOUS ONE! 
> 
> THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! It's overwhelming to us that you're responding so well to this story. We were excited to start the project but it means a lot that you are too! Keep the hits coming and, of course, we love comments! 
> 
> Bookmarks will make you LiteratureLocker's best friend...
> 
> While I have your attention, and before we get to this chapter, I want to make so bold as to suggest another outstanding fic on Ao3 for your attention. "Because I Could Not Stop for Death" is a story written by my feathered friend, BadGoose and it is outstanding. If you like fresh takes on Horsewomen stories, then you'll love this psychological thriller/murder mystery starring our favorite girls. I'll include the link below...
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17954870/chapters/42404885
> 
> Now......at last....to today's chapter:
> 
> On the surface, you have to wonder if there is an environment less suited to the hugger don't you? Yet, this badass Bayley seems to know what she's about no? What do you think of her strategy, is she doing the right thing? What about the school? Will be she earn their trust? 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	9. Welcome to the team - Charlotte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte goes on a raid for Dr. Bevis to get research, and comes back with so much more. Who is he and what does he want?

Charlotte shifted her weight, bringing her left knee down to balance herself while she shook out her right leg.  Sitting like this for a long time was not exactly her forte, but running straight into the building down the street could turn out to be suicide.  

 

The blood pooling on the sidewalk in front of the door was a rather obvious indicator that there could be trouble waiting inside for her.

 

She ducked back behind the edge of the roof she was hiding on and pulled up her AR heads up display to check the layout of the street one more time.  The small JTF squad that had been sent to collect the data initially last radioed in from that building’s location. 

 

That had been a few days ago according to the intel Dr. Bevis had provided.  Which could only mean that the blood outside the building probably belonged to one or two of those officers.  

 

Charlotte enlarged the map, her eyes darting back and forth across its display in her contact lens, and quickly searched for an alternate entrance.  The building had one main door in the front, a fire escape on each side and a door in the rear. She sighed as she closed out the map, and shouldered her rifle.  It was time to get to work. 

 

Moving as quietly as possible, Charlotte climbed down the fire escape and slung her rifle back around so it was in front of her.  She dropped down into a low crouch and scanned the street, making sure it was clear before she started to move towards the target building. 

 

Even though the street was littered with cars and barriers, Charlotte couldn’t help but feel like she was exposed as she moved cautiously through the debris.  There were a lot of times her size came in handy while she was growing up. It definitely helped her in getting her volleyball scholarship to a D1 school. It helped her in boot camp, and it definitely helped to gain respect from her unit in the Air Force.

 

Right now though?  Right now she hated it.  It made moving covertly next to impossible, so she didn’t even try.  Which meant that she would be an easy target to anyone with a decent scope.  

 

But Charlotte had always thrived in the face of adversity, so she learned how to adapt to this during boot camp.  She couldn’t move all that quickly, which made running between cover awkward. And even if she could, a lot of cover would be difficult for her to get behind, unless it was a wall or the engine block of a car.  She usually shied away from using a wall as cover because of how bullets can ricochet off of them. 

 

So she learned to move efficiently, always with her head on a swivel.    

 

She readjusted her grip on her rifle and took a steadying breath.  This was so much easier when she was working with her squad. There had always been someone there to watch her back when she was deployed overseas.  Now she was on her own, and while it made some things easier, it also made her nervous.

 

But once again, she was Charlotte Flair.  She was one of a kind. She was unique. Working on her own was what the Division had trained her for, and she would succeed.  She had to. What was left of the United States was depending on her.

 

_ No pressure, _ she commented to herself as her eyes darted upward and scanned the windows of the surrounding buildings.  The last thing she needed was to get picked off before she even got to the building. She owed it to the missing JTF agents to at least finish the mission they hadn’t been able to. 

 

A quick sigh of relief escaped as she reached the building she had been moving towards, her eyes quickly assessing the front door and deciding it wasn’t a viable option.  If there was someone inside, they would most likely expect her to use the front door. At least that’s where she would have set up most of her defenses. Which meant that the back door was either barricaded or trapped as well.

 

Charlotte tossed a quick look over her shoulder and groaned before she became resigned to the fact that she would have to climb one of the fire escapes.  “Fuck me,” she grumbled as she pivoted back towards the closest escape and glared up to the top. 

 

Once again slinging her rifle over her shoulder, Charlotte pulled down the ladder and began her ascent to the top floor where she crouched down next to the window frame and took a look into the room.  It was in utter disarray like someone had either left in a hurry or had rummaged through everything that was left behind. Waiting for a few seconds to make sure that there wasn’t anyone moving around inside, Charlotte reached forward and smirked when the window opened easily for her.  She eased herself over the windowsill quickly and then stopped again to listen for any movement further in the office she was currently standing in. 

 

Charlotte slung the rifle over her shoulder so it was strapped over her back.  The corners were too tight for her to be operating with a rifle, so she pulled her XD .40 out of her thigh holster.  She re-adjusted her grip and then sliced the pie, clearing the hallway in front of her. 

 

She continued down the hallway, the muzzle of her pistol moving with her eyes as she cleared room after room.  She made sure to only stop long enough to clear the rooms before continuing on. The longer she spent in this building, the greater her chances of getting ambushed.  Besides, the research she was looking for was apparently on a rather large computer, so it would be hard to miss. 

 

A shadow danced briefly across the wall further down the hall.  Charlotte moved to her right in case someone came out of the room, they wouldn’t immediately see her, giving her a few seconds to assess the situation and shoot if necessary.

 

She waited a few seconds, then a few more.  Comfortable with the fact that no one was coming out of the room, Charlotte decided to forgo thoroughly clearing each room that she passed.  The most pressing issue right then was securing whoever was in that room. Once they were taken care of, she could double back and check these for the computer.  

 

She paused just outside to door and tightened her grip on her pistol, took a deep breath and then shifted so she was leaning a little into the room, making sure to leave most of her torso behind the cover of the wall.  

 

“Stop what you are doing and put your hands where I can see them.”

 

The large man sitting at the table immediately froze and his hands shot up over his head.  He tried to turn his head so he could see who had snuck up on him, but the size of his shoulders stopped him from being able to turn his head all the way.  

 

Charlotte watched him move, her gaze taking in his body language.  He didn’t seem to be someone who would have had training in the military or law enforcement, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.  Just because his movements were a little on the choppy side, didn’t mean he wasn’t trained in  _ something _ .  Besides, even hunched over the table as he was, it was obvious he was close to six feet in height and close to two hundred and fifty pounds.  A man that size wouldn’t need any training in order to take Charlotte out in a fight. 

 

“Keep your hands up and slowly turn to face me.”

 

The man nodded and did as Charlotte asked as he slowly turned the rolling chair he had squeezed himself into.  Once they were facing each other, Charlotte could see just how scared the man was at having a gun pointed at him. And since she kind of needed his cooperation considering he was most likely sitting in front of the computer she needed, she lowered her pistol into a high tuck position and stepped the rest of the way into the room.

 

“Who are you?”

 

The man blinked a few times as his eyes darted between Charlotte’s face and the gun that was no longer pointed directly at him but was still visible enough to be a threat.  “Kevin Owens.”

 

“Are you armed, Kevin Owens?”

 

Kevin shook his head back and forth furiously.  “No!” 

 

Charlotte nodded.  “Do me a favor. Stand up slowly, lift the hem of your sweatshirt and then turn around.  Do it now. And do it slowly.”

 

Once Owens had completed a full turn and Charlotte was satisfied that he wasn’t armed, she motioned for him to sit back down in the chair.  “Are you alone?”

 

Kevin nodded.  “Yes. The building has been abandoned for a few days now.  Everyone left after those JTF agents got killed out front.”

 

Charlotte narrowed her eyes as she studied him.  He seemed to be telling the truth, and he had been compliant so far, so she decided to take a chance and trust what he was saying.  Besides, his demeanor screamed that he was a civilian more and more the longer she spent time with him. She holstered her pistol and stepped up to the desk so she was standing right in front of him.  

 

“What were you doing?”

 

He looked at her questioningly and when she gestured at the computer with a look of  _ well?  _  on her face, he slowly spun back around and opened up what he had just been working on.  There were two windows open on the monitor. The one of the left looked to be a bunch of symbols that didn’t really make any sense to Charlotte.  And the one on the right appeared to be code that was writing itself. 

 

Kevin looked from Charlotte to the computer and back to the blonde.  “I’m running a decryption program,” he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

“Why does it look like it’s writing itself?”  

 

“Because it kind of is,” he started.  “I wrote a subprogram within the main program that allows the main program to adapt the code to the encryption.”

 

Charlotte simply blinked at him.  He chuckled. “Okay, let me try and explain it this way.  The program is checking the encryption, and as it runs through the possibilities, it will adapt the code and automatically run the next decryption routine based on the ones it's already checked.”

 

Charlotte nodded as if she understood.  “Uh-huh. I’m assuming that’s all very impressive if I understood any of it.  The more important question is what were you planning on doing with the information once it was decrypted?”

 

Kevin blinked at her a second and then cocked his head to the side.  “Who are you, anyway?”

 

Charlotte simply regarded him, locking them both in a standoff until Charlotte finally gave in.  “Lieutenant Flair, JTF.”

 

“ _ You’re  _ JTF?”  

 

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at him.  “What does  _ that _ mean?”

 

He gestured at her clothing.  “You’re not in their usual uniform.  Plus you don’t really move like the JTF agents that are out here.”

 

“I’m research division.”

 

“Uh-huh,” he said, sounding completely unconvinced.  

 

“Believe what you want,” she shrugged.  “What were you planning on doing with it?”

 

Kevin gestured at the computer, “the National Guard is collecting the data and exchanging it for food and supplies.”

 

“The National Guard moved out weeks ago.”

 

“Not this unit apparently,” Kevin shrugged, turning back to the computer when it made a high pitched ding.  “Hmm, looks like it’s done.”

 

He reached out to grab the USB drive from the computer but stopped when Charlotte’s hand covered his.  He froze and looked up at her. “How do you feel about getting a place to stay and three squares a day?”

 

Kevin thought about it for a second before he nodded.  “What are you offering?”

 

“Come work for the JTF.  We need people who know technology and computers.  If you wrote that program yourself, I know we could use you at headquarters.”  She watched his reaction closely and kept going when she saw that she had his attention. “You’ll get a bed in a warm place, and warm meals three times a day.  We also just set up a shower station that has warm water sometimes.”

 

Charlotte could tell that he was thinking about it.  So she let him have some time to go over the offer. 

 

“Would I have to go out on the street to get the information?”

 

“Not unless you wanted to,” Charlotte shook her head.  “We have people that can retrieve the whole computer for you if you need it.”  

 

“So I won’t have to dodge bullets anymore?”

 

Charlotte laughed.  “No. That’s what people like me are for.  You can stay safe inside the headquarters and we will get it for you.”

 

“Okay, I’m in.”

 

Charlotte beamed.  “Good. Welcome aboard.”

  
  


_________________

  
  


The trip back to HQ took a little longer than Charlotte had originally anticipated.  Adding Kevin to the mix meant slower movements and more breaks. Not that Charlotte was really complaining, she was exhausted and starving.  So moving slower to accommodate the larger man meant that Charlotte could conserve her energy a little better. 

 

When they finally walked through the door to the headquarters being set up inside the warehouse, Charlotte pointed him towards an office that had been set up in the back.  There were blinds drawn over the window of the door, but there was a light that was filtering out through the bottom of the door. “Sorry you have to do this right away, but we vet all of our new people immediately.  Go see Dr. Scot. She’ll run a quick evaluation and then give you a stamp of approval. Once that's done, the mess hall is that way. That’s where you’ll be able to find me and then we can get you set up with a bunk.”

 

“Flair!” 

 

Charlotte had the decency to flinch as Arn Anderson bellowed at her from the doorway.  “Or not. I have to go handle that,” she gestured at the middle-aged man. “I’ll meet up with you a little later and help you get squared away.”

 

He nodded and went to go to the Dr.’s office, but stopped and turned back to the blonde.  “Hey, Lieutenant? Thanks.”

 

Charlotte nodded and smiled at the man as he walked towards Dr. Scot’s office.  In the short amount of time that she had known him, she could tell that he would fit in well with everyone else here.  She just hoped that he would come to feel the same. 

 

“Are you going to keep me waiting a long time Charlotte?  Should I go pull up a chair, maybe take a nap?”

 

Charlotte rolled her eyes and walked over to her father’s longtime friend.  “Yes, Arn. What can I help you with this time?”

 

“Who the fuck was that?”

 

Charlotte shrugged.  “His name is Kevin and he’s really good with computers.  We need someone like him. Seemed like a decent fit if you ask me.”

 

He pointed his finger in her face.  “You know full well that you are supposed to clear it with me before you bring anyone here.”

 

“He’s seeing Dr. Scot now.  Once she gives him the seal of approval, I’ll bring him to meet you.  I’m sure you’ll like him.”

 

Arn didn’t seem impressed.  Charlotte held up the research that Paige had sent her out to get.  “He made this super easy to get. Translated it and everything for us.  I promise you he’ll be worth it.”

 

Anderson stared at her, his eyes searching her face.  “Your gut is telling you this?”

 

Charlotte nodded, “it really is.”

 

He sighed.  “Fine. Only because you’re the one vouching for him.  He messes up though, it’s on you.”

 

Charlotte smiled, relieved.  “That’s fine.”

 

Arn chuckled.  “Go give this info to Dr. Bevis.  Then go get some chow and then rest up.  I have something else for you in a few days.”

 

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed in skepticism.  “Good thing or bad thing?”

 

He smiled mischievously as he pivoted and walked away.

 

“Arn?  What do you have planned?  I don’t like this! Arn!?”

 

He turned and pointed at her.  “You do this and I’ll owe you one.”

 

Charlotte shook her head.  “I don’t like the sound of this.”

 

“You will!”

 

“Doubt it!” Charlotte yelled as he left the warehouse, waving at her over his shoulder as the door closed behind him.

 

Charlotte shook her head and turned towards the infirmary to turn the information to Dr. Bevis, glad that she would finally be able to get something to eat.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's another chapter down! I can't really speak for AP, but I have a feeling he won't protest too much when I say that you are easily the best readers a girl could ask for! Over 800 hits??? Are you all serious??? That is amazing!! And way more than I ever could have imagined, especially this early in the journey. Y'all are BEYOND amazing and I am beyond humbled by this response. Thank you all so much for your positive feedback!!


	10. Wolf in the Flock - Sasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha Banks continues her hunt through the ruins of Chicago. Her target? Division agents.

During her long and varied career, Sasha Banks had been forced into some very uncomfortable situations. These ranged from hanging upside down and suspended by her calves from a stripper pole to lying prone in standing swamp water for hours waiting for a target to show herself. Six of one half a dozen of the other. But today might have taken the cake.

 

“Hmmph,” she breathed, so quietly that a fly perched on her nose would have struggled to hear it. This was all the indulgence she allowed herself in concession to the pain she was in. Maybe it wouldn’t seem like much to most but by Sasha’s standards it as the equivalent of curling into a ball and sobbing. 

 

Sasha was presently hanging from the ceiling of a large of large lobby. Her harness was presently anchored to three places along the exposed upper floors, allowing her to hand suspended in midair high over the marble ceiling. Of course, no one’s shooting was improved by being in such a position. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

 

Sasha had been trailing her present target for two days, but she’d never managed to get close to her. The other woman was wily behind belief, even taking into account such things as moving almost exclusively along streets without window coverage. Worse, she seemed to have extensive knowledge of the subway and sewers because she seemed to be able to simply vanish at will. 

 

Not this bothered Sasha per se, the more challenge the better. But it had led to her present extraordinary step. The only angle Sasha had been able to spot in this particular area were the decorative windows high above the lobby of this particular building. Sasha’s tip had told her that her target would be passing later today, but no more. She might never get this chance again.

 

Yet, to her dismay, she’d found that the windows were purely decorative. They were set over twenty feet over the door with no easy way to access them. But nothing was impossible to a determined mind...with a piton launcher. She’d been hanging like this for over an hour and she could barely feel her legs at this point. But she’d wait as long as she had to if it meant a shot at her target. 

 

Fortunately for her, her patience was rewarded.

 

After almost two hours suspended in the air, Sasha saw caught a flicker of movement through the window. Unslinging her rifle she lifted it slow and peered through the scope. It was her lucky day it seemed, there was her target was. The woman had short cropped brown hair and alert eyes that were raking the street around her. She was carrying an AK-102 that had a very particular kind of wear on its body that Sasha knew well. It was the kind of wear that could only come from frequent use.

 

On her shoulder, there was an electronic device, a device with a bright orange circle on its face.

 

Sasha knew her target’s habits now, and she knew it was more than capable of calling off whatever she was doing based on nothing but an instinct. As much time as Sasha had to spend waiting in her hunts, there was also a time for swift and decisive action. That time was now. 

 

Sasha exhaled slowly and began to squeeze the trigger.

 

Later that day Sasha was standing in an underground parking ramp, she was concealed behind a car that likely hadn’t been driven since before the Green Poison first appeared. The garage was filthy and stank horribly, but Sasha loved it. It was very early a perfect place for her meetings due to it’s best feature. It was an acoustic nightmare. The slightest sound echoed like a volley of artillery, making it impossible to guess where it might be coming from.  

 

“Yo yo, crazy lady! Y'all in here?” a male voice called suddenly. It sounded as though a dozen people were speaking but Sasha make a quick check on the camera she’d set up and saw that two men had just entered the garage. Even so, she didn’t speak and simply waited.

 

“Yo where is this bitch…” she heard the second man, much smaller than his companion, mutter. The sound magnified a hundredfold in the garage. This just made Sasha grin softly herself.

 

“That bitch is here fool,” she shouted, doing so deliberately to further confuse the sound around the enclosed space. 

 

“She got you mutha fucka,” his larger companion said with a laugh. His friend looked disgruntled but stayed silent.

 

“You got my shit?” Sasha called? She enjoyed the echoing effect, it made her voice sound booming and imposing.

 

“Yo get yo big dumb ass moving,” the shorter man urged as he nudged his partner. The larger man waved him away and put down the large box he’d been carrying.

 

“Got it all right here,” he said with what he clearly considered was a winning smile.

 

“Show me,” was all he got in reply.

 

“Yo girl, you don’t trust me?”

 

“No,” Sasha said flatly, though she was grinning still. The two men went by Shad and JTG, and they were idiots. But useful sorts of idiots whom Sasha liked. She’d been using them to acquire odds and ends for her. Most importantly, they had an uncanny ability to learn things from someone who knew someone else. Their informal network of contacts among hustlers, gangsters, working girls, scavengers, and even in the bigger factions meant that they knew way more than one might expect. Though Sasha often suspected they didn’t quite grasp the gold mine they were sitting on. 

 

“That’s cold man, that’s just cold,” Shad, the big one, said in a wounded tone.

 

“Open the box,” Sasha said, watching the whole scene through her camera. Shad did as he was told and when he stood again Sasha could see that the box was full of food, medicine, and a few luxury items. 

 

“See? All here,” Shad called out. 

 

“And my info?” Sasha asked.

 

“I wrote it down and put it in the box like you said,” JTG called back.

 

“In the future, find someone else to write it down. I can barely read your chicken scratching,” Sasha laughed. Then she added: “Summarize it for me.”

 

“This..ho…” JTG muttered again. Sasha could see both men were looking around, trying to figure out exactly where she was. Let them, it kept them distracted.

 

“I’m waiting, gentlemen,” she shouted. 

 

“So I heard from my homie Goose that his other dude name Jose was-” JTG began but Sasha cut him off.

 

“Where will he be and when?” she asked.

 

“Homeboy is holed up on the penthouse of one of those fancy-ass places downtown, no one gets to see him unless he wants to,” Shad explained. As if in response to his words there was the ‘beep-beep’ sound of a car unlocking nearby. 

 

“You’ll find your payment in the car of the brown Pontiac, take it and go,” Sasha explained. Shad and JTG looked around once more before their eagerness overcame them and they hurried over to the car in question. Sasha had left a case full of cash as well as some pistol ammo inside its trunk. She had no idea what the two men were doing with greenbacks at the moment but they seemed happy to take them and Sasha made sure to take any she found. 

 

“Yo, you need anything else, crazy lady? Some of that weed maybe? Some harder shit?” Shad asked the air. Sasha almost laughed at this but she didn’t answer directly.

 

“When you leave you’re going to hear some beeping, that’s the sound of anti-personnel mines arming themselves in the exit. Don’t try to come back in,” was all she said. Shad and JTG didn’t need telling twice, they took their payment and scampered. Sasha didn’t move, scampering right out as soon as they’d left would put her at risk. Instead, she took out a protein bar and munched on it quietly. She gave it a full hour before she left her cover and retrieved her crate.

 

It had everything she’d asked for including her specialty items. Scooping the items into her backpack she slunk out of the parking garage and set about her next hunt. She read the handwritten notes in her crate (they were indeed almost illegible) but she gleaned enough. She’d have to make a trip north of her bass, not far but through very dangerous territory. The penthouse where her target was hiding was located in the area that served as a kind of informal border between the faction controlling the area around city hall and the no man's land surrounding it.

 

The civil government of Chicago had fallen far faster than had been expected. One day it had been trying to coordinate efforts on quarantine and law enforcement and the next the mayor and most of the rest of the government had vanished. No one, Sasha included, was in much doubt as to what had happened but the effect had been disastrous. The JTF had been forced to create its own mechanisms for dealing with the civilian populace, but these were quickly swamped.

 

Then, out of nowhere, City Hall and come back to life. Proclamations had begun emanating from the building over the air and even directly to cell phones. Ut the situation had only become more confused when it had become obvious that neither the JTF or the large contingent of Illinois National Guard in the city were taking orders from this new group. As time had passed the rumors had begun circulating that the people now in City Hall weren’t politicians at all.

 

Sasha was much better informed than your average denizen of Chicago and she’d early confirmed these rumors. The people who’d seized the building and had been carving out their own little Empire in the surrounding area were calling themselves the Administration. In keeping with this, they had kept up the facade that they were, in fact, the legitimate government of the city, though no one outside of City Hall seemed to take this seriously.

 

The true power behind this group was what had, before the crisis, been called the Chicago Outfit. Better known as the mafia. Sasha had confirmed that old man Bruno Sammartino himself, had moved into the building. Sasha supposed this wasn’t that surprising, the mob would have the kind of people in place to thrive in the chaos that the world had descended into. Not that it actually mattered that much to her.

 

Random looters, former mafia, or otherwise all were grist to her mill if they were praying on others. She’d taken down several patrols coming from City Hall and would no doubt have to do so again in the future. Yet she was under no illusions that this was actually doing much in the grand scheme of things. The Administration was offering guns, women, food, and shelter in exchange for obedience. Sasha had no doubt that they were having a much easier time recruiting than the JTF was.

 

But she put this all out of her head as she returned to her base of operations. It was getting dark and her legs were still not fully 100% after spending so much time hanging from the ceiling. She’d set off early the next morning and probably be in a position to take her shot before noon. If all went to plan, she’d have another SHD watch to her credit before the day was done. 

 

Three orange circles in her collection so far, and she had plenty of room for more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwww look at what you fine people have gone and done! 
> 
> Nine-hundred twenty-seven hits! In only NINE chapters! LiteratureLocker is so excited I'm pretty sure she's outside sprinting up and down her street with a sparkler in each hand as I write this.
> 
> Let's keep the magic up, yeah? Comments, kudos, and bookmarks are as mana from heaven for us! And we'd love to discuss this beautiful mess we've created with you!
> 
> Did you guys like this one? What is the Boss up to? Is she even one of the good guys? How would you guys like to see the Horsewomen meet?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	11. Personnel File: Charlotte Flair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into what makes Charlotte, well...Charlotte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! I know it's not Tuesday, so updating with a new chapter may have thrown some of you for a loop. But, AP and I were talking and since you have all been so amazing, we decided to release this special chapter as our way of saying thank you for your amazing support of this little project. I'm still in shock that we have already reached 1,000 hits!!!!! Y'all are beyond hugging amazing! We also decided to release special chapters like this one every time we reach another milestone. 
> 
> That being said, neither of us are in any way a clinical psychologist, so take everything we put in these character profiles with a massive grain of salt. We are but lowly fic authors doing our best to thank our amazing readers. 
> 
> Seriously... I still can't get over how amazing you all are. Easily one of the best fandoms I have ever been a part of. As always, let us know what you thought. AP and I are both more than excited to talk to y'all about this story. 
> 
> _______________

**PERSONNEL WORKUP: DIVISION AGENT**

 

Workup performed by Dr. Lindsay Scot, clinical psychologist previously employed by the CPD to provide assistance to officers in regards to the mental and emotional ramifications resulting from their performance of duty.  Brought on to the Chicago JTF branch by Division Commander Arn Anderson to provide the same care for both Division Agents and JTF members alike. The following workup was completed after several meetings with the below-mentioned agent.  Further adjustments to this workup will follow pending future sessions. 

 

**NAME:**  Charlotte Flair

 

**RANK :**  Agent

 

**STATUS:** Active

 

**LOCATION:**  Chicago

 

**COMMANDING OFFICER:**  Arn Anderson

 

**HISTORY:**

 

Agent Charlotte Flair is the only child of Army veteran Lt. Colonel Ric Flair.  Her mother was not in the picture for most of her childhood, which left a void that was difficult for Charlotte to fill.  She never felt as though she was good enough for her father, never felt as though she could live up to his expectations. She has even commented several times that his legacy is just too big for her to escape, hinting at the fact that she wants nothing more than to be her own person, to live out her own life away from her father’s shadow.  However, she still strongly desires to make her father proud.

 

This desire led her to be captain of her volleyball team, graduate valedictorian and summa cum laude in both high school and at UNC, where she completed a BS in Criminal Justice and a BA in Anthropology on a full ride scholarship.  Upon graduating from UNC, she enrolled in the officer’s training program from the Air Force. She graduated that program and became a Combat Rescue Officer, completing three tours of duty in the Kandahar Province. She was activated while assigned to Scott Air Force Base in Illinois, where she was also attending classes at the University of Washington Medical School.

 

**NOTES :**

 

Agent Flair’s desire to live up to her father’s legacy has left her with an inherent need to be perfect.  She is almost incapable of accepting that she can, and will, make mistakes. The idea that she is indeed fallible is something that rarely crosses her mind.  And when it does, she refuses to accept that, seeing this part of the human condition as unacceptable. She has often stated that she cannot make mistakes, that she will not allow herself to make mistakes because that means she is less than perfect.  It is due to this belief that her drive to be the best is near untouchable. She will constantly push herself beyond limits that are considered healthy in order to complete missions.

 

She prefers working with a team, which I found to be a rather interesting piece of information.  And upon asking follow up questions, she admits that her time deployed overseas had gotten her used to working with people who would watch her back.  People that she could rely on and trust, that would understand where she was coming from without her having to explain in any real detail. This leads to an interesting development as most Division Agents are trained to work alone, with only a slight possibility of working as a unit.  With that in mind, Agent Flair will often isolate herself and take on too many responsibilities. I believe this has to do with  _ how _ she perceives Division Agents are supposed to act.  She will often volunteer for the more dangerous missions and agree to assist with ones that should not require her assistance, often times running herself ragged in an attempt to perform how she believes a good Division Agent should perform.

 

She had no real issue with authority and even thrives in a structured atmosphere.  She understands her place in the chain of command and will very rarely deviate from that.  She thrives in hostile situations and has a tactical understanding of a combat zone that most other Agents I have interviewed cannot grasp.  It is her ability to excel under such pressure that I believe has led her to become Commander Anderson’s unofficial second in command. She compartmentalizes the stresses of this job exceedingly well and is always open to my recommendations, though she is hesitant to open up to me during our sessions.  She is a fiercely private person who is remarkably adept at separating her private life from her personal life, refusing to let the state of the world we live in affect her ability to complete the tasks presented to her.

 

It is my belief that Agent Flair will continue to thrive in this environment if she can find a way to balance her duties and self-care.  I even predict that she may one day be called up to take command of her own group of Division agents. 

  
  


**COMMENTS FROM COMMANDING OFFICER : ** Arn Anderson

 

Agent Flair is one of the best agents I currently oversee.  She is bright, strong, intelligent and extremely proficient at adapting on the fly.  She is responsible, loyal and dependable, making her my usual go to when I have a mission that is of higher importance.  Her work in the field is precise and efficient, and she shows a caring for her fellow agents and JTF members that most other agents are missing.  

 

I have always believed, even when she was a little girl, that Charlotte Flair was born to lead.  And having served with her father, I can honestly say that she will do nothing but excel if and when she takes command of her own group of agents.  I know she is concerned with living up to her father’s legacy as an exemplary military officer, but she shouldn’t be concerned with that. Leading people into battle is written in the Flair DNA, and had I not already been appointed Commander of this group of agents, I would gladly, willingly, and readily follow her into a firefight.  

 

  
  



	12. Hello, Murder Bird - Becky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Becky is on the hunt once again. But this time, she's being followed.

Becky lowered her rifle and took in her surroundings.  She was currently a little further south than she usually traveled, but one of her contacts had caught wind of a newer faction scavenging in this area.  According to her source, who was very rarely wrong, this newer group was just starting to make a name for themselves. They were doing it in such a way that the citizens had taken to calling them the Demons.  And if the carnage around her was anything to go by, her source had been right and this was a group that needed to be stopped. 

 

Becky simply took a second to take in the sheer number of bodies that were littering the intersection.  Some appeared to have been butchered, their bodies nearly dismembered and disemboweled. Others were strung up on light poles and appeared to have been tortured and played with before being killed.  Blood was smeared all over the asphalt and had been used to paint a symbol on nearby cars, barricades, and buildings. A symbol that looked a lot like the Web of Wyrd from Norse mythology.

 

Her stomach plummeted to her feet and bile that was bitter with shame burned painfully in her throat.  These Demons were marking territory just like she was. But they were making a game out of it. They were using it to cause fear and chaos among the people, leaving it so brazenly and displayed in such a way, she had to wonder if they were sending a message  _ to her _ . But it wasn’t something that she could dwell on right now, so she forced that thought to the back of her mind and went about searching the victims. 

 

All of the victims were JTF or civilians.  Two groups of people who were only trying to make this hell a better place.  And regardless of what side you fought for, or what your beliefs were…. no one deserved to go out as these people had.  

 

She would find these Demons, and she would kill them.

 

It would be slow.  

 

It would be painful.  

 

It would be the proper revenge for whatever had lead them to this.  

 

Becky sighed as she leaned down and grabbed the name tape off of the JTF uniforms.  The different factions had taken to collecting what dog tags the JTF had been able to hand out at the start of the outbreak.  But they never took the name tape off of the ballistic vests of the agents. So Becky had started collecting those, making sure to keep them safe until her next trip to JTF headquarters.  Everyone deserves to be remembered, especially if they took up arms and tried to defend the people who couldn’t defend themselves. It was the least she could do since she hadn’t been here to help save them.  She could at least make sure they got the proper respect they had earned.

 

She went ahead and searched the JTF bodies for ammo or any kind of weaponry that would help.  She figured it would be fruitless. The factions usually policed that type of gear pretty well, but it couldn’t hurt to try.  She managed to scrounge a few pocket knives and some rope, but other than that, they had been picked clean.

 

Becky tossed the new gear in her bag and shouldered it.  Squinting into the glare of the sun, she adjusted her sunglasses.  If she was one of these Demons, she would keep heading south. There was talk of a settlement popping up down there that sounded like it was ripe for the picking.  Word was that they were accepting all sorts of civilians within their walls and providing what aid they could, which meant that the factions that were popping up would have them in their sights.  

 

So that was where Becky would be heading.  Anyone who was brave enough to at least try and help in this environment deserved all the assistance she could provide.    

 

It wasn’t until she stepped around a van that had been in the middle of the street that her confusion made her stop and simply stare at what she was seeing  _ now _ .  The scenes were night and day in their difference.  On one side of the van, you had bodies that had been butchered, toyed with, experimented on.  It was bloody, ruthless, and feral.

 

The scene on  _ this _ side of the van was a different story completely.  For starters, the bodies were dressed differently. Some wore more rugged clothing that was meant for cold mountain terrain.  Almost all of them had long beards that were braided and there was an alarming amount of leather on them. And each seemed to be carrying a personalized weapon.  Whether it was a sword, an ax, a large knife or a blunt object wrapped in barbed wire, Becky could tell the weapon had been chosen or designed by the person who had carried it.

 

But what stood out the most wasn’t even the green, white and black war paint that was streaked across their faces from their left temple down to the corner of their right jaw.  No, what stood out the most was how clinically these people had been dispatched. It was cold, it was calculated, it was efficient. It was a stark contrast to the bloodbath on the other side of the van.  These people had been taken care of with one gunshot wound to the middle of their forehead. 

 

Each one of them.  

 

And the way that the six of them were laying on the ground, it had been quick.  Most of them didn’t appear to even have time to react to what was happening. 

 

Becky shuddered.  Whoever had done this was beyond dangerous, and she could only hope that she never had to cross paths with this person.  If she did, there was no way it would be a fair fight. She looked up and squinted across the street at a few buildings, but deciding that those were too close for the type of wounds she was looking at, she looked further.  The next building that would provide any type of lookout point was a good three hundred yards away. 

 

Becky would have been lying if she said she wasn’t impressed.  This shooter was  _ good _ .  So good that Becky actually considered there might have been more than one.  It would have been next to impossible for one person to be able to dispatch all six of these people in the way that they had at that distance.  

 

A sickening feeling of being watched settled deep into Becky’s gut and she hurried past the carnage, remembering to get the location for the JTF to come to collect their dead when and if they had the time.  She didn’t want to be seen hanging around here in case the shooter was still around and feeling frisky. 

  
  


__________________

  
  


Following this particular group of Demons hadn’t been difficult.  It was really just about following the carnage and letting it take you from one place to the next.  And if she managed to put down a few of them along the way, she wasn’t going to complain too loudly about it.  In fact, being able to put a few of them down had definitely made this trip south worth it. 

 

Granted, the small raiding party she was looking at right now probably wouldn’t put up much of a fight.  They were walking down a street, their homemade weapons gripped in their hands. One of them had the audacity to be whistling while they searched the abandoned vehicles for supplies.  Now, it hadn’t been the whistling that had bothered Becky. She did it all the time, sometimes even sang at the top of her lungs for crying out loud, so she really couldn’t judge the older man for trying to entertain himself by making such a racket.  

 

No, what bothered her the most about it was how nonchalant he was being about the whole thing.  She whistled and sang to bring attention to herself all the time. She did it to make her prey come to her, lure them out and then spring the trap when they least expected it.  These idiots, however, didn’t seem to fully grasp the ramifications of making so much noise while out here. Either that or they just didn’t care. So there they were, making as much noise as could be, but not paying attention to their surroundings.

 

Which made what happened next very simple for Becky.  

 

She knelt down behind an abandoned car and reached into her bag.  Her first instinct had been to reach for the appropriate ordinance for the Division issued chem launcher Anderson had been so kind in agreeing to let her have.  But she had been feeling a little mischievous so her hand drifted to one she had made herself. 

 

It was the same size and shape of the canister that she was  _ supposed _ to put in the launcher, but the mixture inside had been purely her own creation.  There was a small plate of glass that sat in the container that would shatter as it was launched from the weapon.  That would allow the two chemicals inside the canister to mix, which would lead to a flammable substance once the canister impacted with her target.  The substance was designed to stick to whatever it hit and ignite once oxygen was introduced to the mixture. 

 

That was what it was  _ supposed _ to do anyway.  

 

She hadn’t tried it in a combat situation yet.  Yes, she had tried it on a smaller scale in her lab and it had worked there, but she hadn’t tested it with the launcher yet.

 

A smirk settled on Becky’s face as she loaded the canister into the launcher.   _ No time like the present, _ she thought to herself as she took aim and pulled the trigger.  The dull  _ whoomp _ of the metal canister leaving the end of the launcher was music to the Irish woman’s ears.

 

What was more glorious was the second the canister impacted the ground right behind the group of Demons, it exploded like it was supposed to, splattering the backs of three of the larger men with a blue liquid that immediately burst into flames.  

 

They fell to the ground, their screams of pain and surprise echoed around the empty street, covering the sound of Becky’s footsteps as she shifted location to get a better shooting position on the remaining three.  Once they were in range, Becky pulled out a grenade, popped the pin and let it cook for a few seconds before she lobbed it. 

 

Her fist shot into the air in victory when the grenade landed in the middle of the group and exploded before any of them had time to react.  She quickly scanned the area to make sure that all of the threats had been incapacitated. When the Demons made no move to get up, she stood, reholstered her chem launcher to the side of her pack and started walking towards the group of Demons that were now all moaning in pain or struggling for their last breath.  Not to be one outdone in  _ anything _ , Becky added insult to injury by whistling the same song the one man had been whistling not even seconds before.

 

She sauntered up to them and stopped at one of the men closest to her.  He was lying prone on his stomach, his back still on fire. Using her boot, she kicked him over onto his back and pointed her S&W Shield .40 at his face and pulled the trigger.  

 

She did this four more times until she got to the last one.  It had been the male who had been the furthest from the grenade blast and he was currently trying to pull himself away from her without using his legs that were now a mangled mess hanging limply below his waist.  Becky stepped on his back, stopping his movement. 

 

“Turn over, ya worthless coward.”

 

He did as she demanded, his hands coming up above his head once he was on his back.  His eyes were full of tears and Becky could tell that he was about to cry. “Please,” his voice warbled with pain.  “Please, don’t kill me.”

 

Becky’s eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on her pistol.  “Don’t kill ya? Did the civilians you and yer mates butchered ask you not ta kill ‘em?  Did ya listen to them?”

 

He actually fucking whimpered.  “Please, I’ll do anything.”

 

Becky scoffed, her disdain for the group obvious on her face.  “Anything? ‘tis a little late for tha, don’t ya think? Nah, I’m gonna use you to send a message, I am.”

 

The man shook his head frantically back and forth until a single gunshot rang out, stilling his movements when the bullet made itself at home in his cranium.  

 

Becky sighed and lowered her pistol.  “I ain’t you though. So I ain’t gonna do it while you’re alive.  That’d be too cruel, even for the likes of me.” 

 

The message she wanted to send would take a while to set up.  But after the destruction that this particular group of Demons had caused, she was willing to spend the time making sure other groups knew she wasn’t one to fuck around with.  So she took the next ten minutes to haul the bodies into a crude Brigid’s Knot right there in the middle of the street. She then took another three to draw a quick Web of Wyrd with the Demons’ blood in the middle.

 

Once that was done, she siphoned some gasoline from one of the nearby cars, doused the corpses in it and lit them with a crude torch made out of a piece of rebar and a shirt that she also soaked in gas.  She stood there and made sure that each body had started to burn, her hand finding its way into her pocket where she riffled through the name tags she had secured there. She took the time to count each one twice, three, four times… memorizing how many JTF agents this particular faction had killed.

 

The feeling of being watched slithered down Becky’s spine again.  It was the same feeling she felt when she first found the bodies dropped by the sniper.  It had actually followed her as she continued south, and the longer the person watched her, the more Becky was convinced that they were an amateur and not the sniper like she had originally thought.  Waiting a few more seconds to see if the person would leave, Becky nodded to herself when her stalker kept her eyes focused on the back of Becky’s head. That settled that, then.

 

Becky then moved to the right side of the street and started walking south again.  She waited until the person started to move as well before she quickly ducked into an adjoining alley and doubling back so she ended up  _ behind _ the person, who was now creeping towards the opening of the alley.  

 

Becky chuckled to herself as she approached the young woman.  She wasn’t all that good at concealing herself or her intentions and was actually completely exposed with how she was approaching the alley.  Becky waited until she had snuck up right behind the young girl before she reached out and snatched the hood of her jacket, hauling her back and off balance.  

 

“What’re you followin’ me for?” Becky growled as she turned the girl around to face her.  All of the anger and frustration at this inconvenience dissipated when she found herself looking at the face of a girl who couldn’t be older than fifteen.  

 

“Fookin hell!  How old are ya, lass!?” 

 

The girl’s already pale face got paler, any color she may have retained was washed out by the blonde color of her hair.  Her blue eyes grew about three sizes bigger and she tossed her hands clumsily into the air. “I didn’t mean anything by it!”

 

Becky put the girl back on her feet and pushed her up against the wall, her finger pointing threateningly in the girl’s face.  She had to bite her tongue to hold back the chuckle that wanted to escape as the girl’s eyes crossed to follow the fingertip. “What are ya doin out here by yerself?”

 

“My dad is out scavenging up north, but our food is running low.  So instead of just sitting around, I came down here to look.”

 

“Doesn’t explain why yer followin’ me.”

 

The girl nodded and seemed to deflate in relief when Becky removed her finger and took a step backward.  “You’re Straight Fire. Everyone’s been talking about you and I just had to see for myself. Especially since you saved my dad a few days ago.”

 

“What’s everyone been sayin’ about me?” Becky asked after a few seconds of tense silence, the

curiosity getting the better of her.  Her eyebrow slowly rose as a smile stretched across the girl’s face.  

 

“So you are her!” the girl cheered.  “Yes! This is amazing! I can’t believe I actually found you!”

 

“Wait, what?  I thought you said you knew it was me.”

 

The girl shrugged her shoulders.  “I had my suspicions. Especially after…” she gestures at the pile of flaming bodies in the middle of the street.  

 

Becky turned to look at the sign she had sent to the Demons in the area, and for the first time had the decency to look a little sheepish at the brutality of it all.  “Ah yeah, about that…”

 

The girl waved it off.  “Don’t worry about it. I get it.  I just can’t believe I’m actually talking to Straight Fire!”

 

Becky reached into her pack and handed the girl all of the MRE’s she was currently carrying.  “Well good, now that ya met me, take this food and head on home. This isn’t a place for a girl like you.”

 

She turned to leave but stopped when a small hand landed on her wrist.  “No! Wait! You can’t just walk away!”

 

Becky pulled her wrist away and turned on the girl.  “Don’t touch me.”

 

The girl’s hands flew up again.  “Okay. Okay, no touching. My bad.  But listen You can’t just leave! I need your help!”

 

Becky’s eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms over her chest.  “I’m not at your beck and call.”

 

The girl protested.  “Oh come on! It’s what you do!  It’s what the whole thing,” she waved her hand at Becky, “with Straight Fire stands for, right?” 

 

“I’m sorry, but what the hell are you prattlin’ on about?”

 

The girl rolled her eyes.  “You. Straight Fire. It all started so you could send a message to people, right?  To let them know they’re not alone? To let them know that they’re safe? That’s what Straight Fire stands for, right?”

 

Becky scoffed.  “No, that’s not… I didn’t… it wasn’t meant to  _ mean _ anything.”  Becky throws her hands up.  “Why am I even explaining myself to a child?”

 

The girl chuckled.  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought.”  She took a step into Becky’s space. “It may not have started that way, but that’s what it is now.  This whole thing has taken off and now actually means something to people.  _ You  _ mean something to people.”

 

Becky shrugged.  “Not my problem if you all take it how you want.  It doesn’t mean I actually plan on helping you.”

 

“But I need your help.”

 

“With what?”

 

The girl struggled to keep a smile off her face at how she seemed to be wearing down Becky’s resolve.  “Teach me.”

 

Becky recoiled slightly in shock.  “I must’ve misheard ya lass. But did you say you wanted me to teach ya?”

 

The girl nodded once, decisively.  “That’s exactly what I said.”

 

“No.”

 

“Oh come on!” she protested as she chased after Becky’s now retreating form.  “Think about it! I could be like another Straight Fire! There could be two of us!  We could win this city back!”

 

Becky turned on the girl, anger obvious on her face.  “No! This is not something for kids like you!”   
  


“I’m sixteen!” the girl protested.

 

“Like I said, a child!  This -- “ she gestured around her, “what I do is not safe!  You’ll just get yerself killed!”

 

“I won’t!  Not if you train me!”

 

“No!  Absolutely not!  Now take this food and go home!”

 

The girl stumbled back with the force in which Becky shoved the MRE’s into the girl’s hands.  “Go on! Go home!” Becky shouted at the girl. “Get out of here and don’t let me catch you following me again!  I don’t need ya slowing me down!”

 

With that Becky turned and stormed off down the street and away from the girl.  The young woman simply smiled and watched the redhead leave. “I’ll get you to teach me, you’ll see.”  With that, she all but skipped off back the way they had come, her hands full of several pouches of food. 

  
  


_______________

  
  


Becky had finished hunting down the rest of the Demons that had been in the area.  With the sun setting, however, it was time for Becky to start making her way back home.  But before she got too close to her home base, she needed to do one last thing. 

 

She knelt down and pulled two things out of her backpack.  The first was a small notebook where she made a few more marks on one of the last pages.  She hadn’t found any more deceased agents since the ones she initially found next to the bodies of those six Demons.  It didn’t help the fact that she now had to add a few more marks to her page, which was quickly filling up with each passing day.

 

Heaving a sigh, she then turned to a blank page and wrote down the coordinates for the bodies of the agents, ripped it out and placed it in a small cloth bag with the name tapes she had recovered.   She hated having to do this part, but the dead deserved to be remembered properly. Plus Anderson should know so he could update the leader of the JTF.

 

What had to happen next would be one of the more dangerous things Becky could do, especially with the SHIELD running around out here trying to recruit Division agents to their side.  Which is why the further away from her bar she did this, the better. 

 

Checking her surroundings quickly, she grabbed the ISAC node that was attached to the right strap of her backpack and turned it on.  

 

Turning on her Intelligent System Analytic Computer, or ISAC for short would mean that her SHD technology would reconnect with the network.  And by reconnecting to the network, she would start broadcasting not only her vital signs but also her location. That would make her basically a sitting duck for anyone who would be looking for a Division agent as long as they had access to the network.  And in this day and age, really anyone with a basic knowledge of wifi could hack the network. 

 

Now that her node was glowing a bright orange, it would send a signal to JTF headquarters that she was back online.  That would let the agent that usually sent her the drone know that she was ready for a pickup and would send the drone to her location.  The key now was to keep moving so none of the factions that were hunting agents could find her. 

 

Becky found an abandoned building and climbed to one of the upper floors, laying traps along the stairs as she moved.  Depending on the other officer’s schedule, she could be waiting here for more than a few minutes, so the more prepared she was for an attack, the better. She found a spot in a room that let her sit with her back to a wall, out of the line of sight from the windows and at an angle to the doorway so she wouldn’t be the first thing they saw when they entered the room.  That is if they made it past the gifts she left behind. 

 

Overall, it took the drone about two hours to find her.  

 

Two long, anxiety-filled hours of sitting still.  Becky, at her core, was a being that had to be in constant motion otherwise she would go absolutely insane.  So those two hours were excruciating for her. If this wasn’t something she absolutely believed in, she would’ve left an hour and a half ago.  

 

Finally, the machine made its way into the room and hovered right in front of the Irish woman.  “Hello Murder Bird,” she greeted as she reached for the small bag that was already attached to the bottom of the drone.  She replaced it with her own and looked right at the camera. “There’s more than a few this time, so take care of them okay?”

 

The drone gave a little wiggle that Becky had come to understand as an affirmative before it turned around and made its way back out of the room.  Becky waited until she couldn’t hear the humming of the propellers anymore before she opened the bag that had been delivered to her.

 

Inside there were several papers.  One piece of paper was a map of Chicago with a bunch of red dots on it, signifying new encampments that had been causing problems for the JTF.  Another had a map with green dots, showing locations of settlements that were popping up around the city. Becky quickly glanced to the southern part of the map and confirmed what her source had been telling her.  There was a green dot in the south that hadn’t been there on the last map, and it was already bigger than any of the others. 

 

Becky smiled to herself.  People were resilient, she would give them that.  And fair play to the people trying to rebuild their city in a peaceful way.  She made a mental note to make her way down there at some point to check out this settlement before she shuffled to the last page in the packet. 

 

There were several names and GPS coordinates on the paper.  Some were starred, others had notes attached to them. Whoever was piloting the drones had figured out pretty early on that Becky was someone who liked having a hit list, so a hit list they provided.  The smile grew on her face as she switched off her ISAC node and moved to collect her traps. Tomorrow was shaping up to be a busy day. Now she just had to go home and get some sleep so she could rise and hunt again.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! You are all fantastic and I cannot even begin to thank you enough! The amount of love this fic has gotten continues to leave me speechless. I know AP is just as excited as I am! And I know that both of us would love to talk to you all about this, so feel free to drop us a comment at the bottom. In the meantime, keep being awesome!


	13. The Price You Pay - Bayley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bayley finds that her new life has cost's she never expected.

Bayley approached the house very cautiously.

 

She was walking through an eerily quiet suburban neighborhood, or more accurately…’slinking’. The place was a nightmare in terms of concealment and cover. Windows EVERYWHERE, even as she tried to cut through backyards. Anyone of these could hide a potential shooter and, as a result, Bayley was very tense. It had taken her the best part of two hours to make it less than three miles as she continued to dart between cover. 

 

But she was finally nearing her goal, the house was the last one on the left of Anvil Street. A quaint little two-story house of a kind you’d find in most such neighborhoods across the country. Yet it seemed to give an odd impression of cleanliness despite the chaos around it. There were no loose debris in the front yard, the car was parked normally, and there was no visible damage to the structure. It looked like it might have been any other winter, rather than this one when the world had ended.

 

Bayley studied it from between two houses across the street for a few minutes and decided it was safe enough. This didn’t stop her from hurrying across the street and up to the door. AS she reached it she found she was suddenly nervous, far more so than when she’d simply been trying to get through the neighborhood.

 

Nevertheless, she forced herself to ring the doorbell. There was no response, though she hadn’t really been expecting one. Wise people didn’t answer their doors these days if they had doors. So Bayley repeated the doorbell and knocked calling: “Nattie! It’s Bayley! You can open up it’s alright! Nattie?!”

 

She kept banging on the door for almost thirty seconds. She was just getting to the point of trying to figure out what she’d do if Nattie didn’t answer. She had to check on her friend and loathe though she was to violate her privacy, if she had to she’d break in. Fortunately, this didn’t prove necessary as she finally heard a rustling and scraping behind the door.

 

“Who is it?” Nattie’s voice asked from the other side of the door.

 

“Nattie it’s me! It’s Bayley,” Bayley called back. It was hard to tell through a door but she thought her friend sounded frightened.

 

“Bayley? How-? How do I know this isn’t a trick?” Nattie asked, her voice betraying fear and doubt.

 

Bayleys sighed and looked over her shoulder once more before saying: “It’s me Nattie, your birthday is May 27th. Last year I got you some gift certificates to a spa that I’m pretty sure you never used.  Somehow your favorite food is tuna, plain tuna. You saved me on my first day at work by telling me I hadn’t buttoned my shirt right.”

 

Even as Bayley said these things she felt a painful longing for that life. The days when her biggest worries had been the students in her class and trying to carve out a social life for herself around her job. But despite the fact that it hadn’t been that long since the crisis had begun, those days felt like an eon ago. More to the point, they felt as though they’d happened to someone else. Some other Bayley.

 

But for all that it seemed to do the trick. Nattie didn’t say anything else but Bayley heard something heavy being moved on the other side of the door followed by several clicks and scraping noises that had to be a chain and a bolt. A second later the door began to open. Bayley put a smile on her face only to have it melt off as she found herself facing the business end of a chef’s knife.

 

“Uh...hello Nattie,” Bayley said as she went cross-eyed looking down at the knife.

 

“Bayley?” Nattie asked, sounding as though she were trying out the word for the first time. As she did the knife began to shake violently.

 

“Yeah...yeah, it’s me,” Bayley said. She could easily avoid the knife by simply stepping backward but she didn’t want to startle an already jumpy seeming Nattie.

 

“Bayley? Oh my god…” Nattie gasped as the knife slipped out of her hands and she lunged forward wrapping her arms around Bayley’s neck. Carefully, Bayley kicked the knife off to one side and stepped forward into the house before closing the door. She had to squeeze past a chest of drawers that she assumed had been serving as a makeshift barricade of the door.

 

“Hey Nattie,” Bayley said quietly as she took a moment to hug her friend. The contact felt nice, given that she’d spent the last few days roughing it. She’d been on her feet almost non-stop trying to check things off Bobby Roode’s list of needs for his small survivor group. 

 

Bayley had first visited two local convenience stores. They’d mostly been picked over but after she’d scared off some looters from the second one, she’d found a storeroom full of boxes of snack food. The next day she’d braved the trip down to a local Sams Club. This had proven to be a veritable nest human vermin. The animals had even nailed a severed head outside the doors to the store. Bayley had actually enjoyed the twenty minutes or so it had taken to hunt the rest of them out of the place.

 

Having secured not only two food sources but also everything else that could be found in  Sams Club, Bayley had radioed back to Roode and asked him to send people. She’d then assisted the team in loading as much as they could carry into two trucks they found in the parking lot. Driving was a bit of a hazard in this new Chicago. A running vehicle tended to attract too much attention for safety so they’d had to reckon on not being able to come back for more supplies anytime soon. Still, it had been a huge bounty including not just food but medicines, tools, supplies, and more.

 

There had been no rest of Bayley however, as she’d set off the next morning to a nearby Walmart. As she’d expected, the place had been nearly emptied but she’d gotten lucky. While the previous looters had grabbed the food, water, tools, batteries, and guns (which made Bayley sigh) no one had thought to do more than ransack the garden department. She’d trekked the four miles back to the school with her pack and pocket bulging with seed packets. 

 

When she’d traipsed through the gates this time, Roode had looked like he could kiss her. Now, assuming the settlement survived until then, they would have plenty of seeds for planting in the spring. In just three days Bayley had taken the school community from the brink of starvation to well supplied enough to consider other problems. Considering how she’d found the place, Bayley was quite proud.

 

Roode had requested that she try to locate more medicine and, now that the food situation wasn’t so bleak, a good source of lumber. He was hoping that they could begin expanding their protective wall to not only completely enclose the school but maybe eventually to protect their large field as well. Bayley had duly noted these things but told him she had a project of her own. She was going to find him the organizer she’d promised.

 

And now she had.

 

“It’s so good to see you,” Nattie whispered as she squeezed Bayley tightly. 

 

“You too,” Bayley whispered back. And it really was. Though she’d been very busy with her work, and had even been able to celebrate some victories, she’d been lonely. She wasn’t yet close to anyone at the school, hardly surprising since she spent almost no time there, and she hadn’t really had anyone to talk to.

 

“It’s been terrible,” Nattie told her as she broke away. Something seemed to change then in her demeanor as she looked Bayley over. It was as though a wall had come down between them now that Nattie’s initial elation at seeing a familiar face had passed.

 

“I know...I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner I just…” Bayley started to say but then found she didn’t quite know how to explain what she’d been up to. Nattie only knew the Bayley who had been a happy teacher, she’d only seen a glimpse of this Bayley that day back at the school.

 

“You’ve...been busy?” Nattie asked tactfully.

 

“Very,” Bayley said awkwardly. She hated how there now seemed to be a wall between her and Nattie.

 

“Come on, sit down,” was all Nattie said as she waved Bayley toward a dining room table. She then began to move the drawers back in front of the door. Bayley tried to help but Nattie waved her off. So she took a chair at the table and looked around. Just like the outside of her home, Nattie seemed to be working hard to keep the interior tidy. Nothing was out of place and Bayley could smell lemon cleaner. She supposed that the cleaning helped her friend feel more in control.

 

“You look good,” Bayley said when Nattie rejoined her. Not because she believed it but because she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Nattie looked terrible. She had dark bags under her eyes, her hair hadn’t been washed in some time, and she was looking haggard as though she hadn’t been eating. 

 

“You’re a bad liar Bayley, you always have been,” Nattie said. Bayley was about to respond when her friend added: “Glad to see I actually know ONE thing about you.”

 

Bayley sighed. When she’d been asked to join the division she hadn’t hesitated, she wanted to help in the worst cases. But one thing they hadn’t trained her for was a situation like this, and honestly, she hadn’t given the possibility much thought. But now, how to explain to someone that you’d been lying by omission to them for years.

 

“Look, Nattie-” Bayley started to say but she got cut off.

 

“What, Bayley? What?” Nattie asked, she didn’t sound angry but everything in her demeanor bespoke strain. “How are you going to explain everything to me,” she asked.

 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Bayley answered quietly.

 

“I saw you kill three people in front of me with your bare hands Bayley…” Nattie said, her tone now accusatory “...I knew a woman who was kind, gentle and had a gift for teaching kids. I have no idea where she went. First at the school and now you show up...like this?” She waved at Bayley’s armor and the weapon on her back. 

 

“You knew I was in the air force,” Bayley pointed out. Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say however because Nattie’s face hardened.

 

“Did you want something Bayley?” she asked, in a voice, she would use to address a stranger. Bayley felt this acutely as a stab at her heart. But she knew that Nattie was at least partially justified in feeling a bit aggrieved. She also knew that there was no point in arguing with her over this. So she got to the point.

 

“There is a small community of survivors living at Sarah E.Goode STEM academy, they’re hanging in there but could really use help. In particular, I thought they could use your ability to lead and organize. It won’t be luxury living but it’s probably safer there than here by yourself and they do have supplies,” she said.

 

Nattie didn’t speak at first. She quiet long enough that Bayley was about to ask if everything was OK when Nattie finally asked: “That’s it?”

 

“What?” 

 

“You show me that you’ve been hiding this dark side of yourself from me forever, and then you tell me to hide here. I spend days just hoping that none of the horrible shit that is happening outside will get me in here then you show up and ask me to leave this place and help you?” Nattie asked she wasn’t doing as good a job hiding her anger now.

 

“Nattie, I understand that you’re having trouble trusting me but-” Bayley started to say but once again she got interrupted.

 

“No! You can’t understand what it’s been like. I’ve been stuck in here afraid that every day might be the one that someone tries to break down my door. And one of the only people I cared about that I knew was still alive turns out to be someone I don’t even know? You don't know what that’s like. I mean Bayley, LOOK AT YOU,” she said this as she waved a hand at Bayley, obviously meaning to take in her armor and weapons. 

 

“I...don't know what you want me to say,” Bayley said with a helpless shrug.

 

“I don’t think there’s anything you can say,” Nattie said cooly, plunging them into a terribly uncomfortable silence. Bayley's heart was breaking as she looked at the woman she’d thought of as a mentor glaring back at her.

 

“It’s...probably not safe for you to stay here on your own though...will you come to the school?” Bayley was finally forced to ask when she couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

 

“Do I have a choice?” Nattie asked harshly, nodding at Bayley’s weapon.

 

“Wha-...” Bayley looked down and then looked back up eyes wide “...Nattie! I would never...I...no this is for protection.”

 

“I don’t know you well enough anymore to know what you might or might not do,” Nattie said coolly. Bayley felt like she’d been slapped but forced herself to just swallow and nod.

 

“OK, but will you come? I mean it when I say the area isn’t safe,” Bayley said. Nattie seemed to think about this for a while before she gave a terse nod.

 

“Can I pack a bag?” she asked.

 

“Of course, but maybe nothing that will slow you down too much,” Bayley said. When Nattie didn’t do anything more than nod once Bayley added: “I’ll wait here by the door.”

 

“OK,” was all Nattie said as she vanished upstairs.

 

Bayley was feeling absolutely dejected as she stood by the door. The world had gone to absolute shit around her but one of the things she’d always clung to was that she had friends. Nattie had been one of these, and now to learn that she might not be anymore was terrible. But she was a trained professional, so she didn’t let this show on her face. She only had to wait a few minutes before Nattie reappeared wearing several more layers and carrying a large gym bag.

 

“I’m ready,” she told Bayley without looking at her.

 

“OK, it’s only about three miles so-”

 

“I know,” Nattie said, cutting Bayley off. It was on the tip of Bayley’s tongue to try and say something right then but she clammed up and just pushed the door open. She waited while Nattie closed and locked it behind them. This was a gesture of hope on her part, the hope that she’d someday come back to the house. Bayley appreciated this and didn’t say anything while Nattie stared at the door for a while.

 

When she did eventually turn around she just waved at Bayley as though to say ‘lead on’ and then fell in behind her. Bayley was cautious as they moved but not quite as much as before. She knew this was sloppy but she also had no desire to stay in this very awkward situation any longer than necessary. 

 

Several times as they walked, Bayley took in a breath, meaning to talk to Nattie. She wanted to explain that she was still Bayley, that she still loved Nattie. And maybe to explain how much she needed Nattie too. But somehow, the words never came. And as they moved out toward the road that would take them back to the school, something distracted her.

 

In the distance, Bayley suddenly heard the sound of a vehicle. She automatically pointed for Nattie to retreat behind a large tree as she ducked down behind a car. She peered down the road and saw that the approaching vehicle had turned out of one the neighborhoods and was now speeding down the road toward her and Nattie.

 

“Get behind the house, stay low!” Bayley told Nattie as she retreated further back into the small group of decorative trees. Nattie didn’t argue and scurried away. Bayley concealed herself and watched as the vehicle approached. She noted right away that it was a humvee, complete with roof-mounted .50. When the vehicle came to a stop two soldiers poured out of the rear doors, taking up defensive positions and scanning the area.

 

“Are you sure?” one of them asked.

 

“The sensors said the SHD tech is in the area moving east,” a voice answered from inside the hummer. Bayley frowned, her first instinct had been to stand and identify herself after all any soldiers were likely to be part of the JTF and this her allies. But something about the situation was off, the two outside the vehicle were acting like they were there for a fight. The whole scenario felt off.

 

“Sir, the contact is very close!” the soldier on the turret called.

 

Bayley swore to herself, her SHD tech came with a beacon that was visible to other such equipment. It wasn’t impossible that the regular military would have similar gear. She thought briefly of simply shutting her gear off but decided that if she needed it she couldn’t afford to wait for a reboot. Then she thought about Nattie, she couldn’t do anything rash but she also couldn’t leave her friend here. 

 

So she quietly removed her turret and positioned it behind a small bush so it could cover the road. She then dropped one of the two seeker mines she had with her before programming it to stay at her side until prompted. After taking a moment to pray that Nattie would be smart enough not to move, Bayley stood.

 

“Excuse me!” she called, the man nearest to her jumped and swung his rifle around to cover her. When he recovered from his own shock, the man on the big gun also trained it around to face her. Noting this Bayley hefted her shrike but didn’t lift it. She also cocked her head to one side and asked: “Is there some problem soldier?”

 

“We need you to come with us agent,” the gunner called as the man on the far side of the hummer rounded it’s back end to add his gun to those pointing at Bayley.

 

Bayley kept her face impassive she said: “If you know I’m a Division Agent then you also know I’m outside your chain of command.”

 

“Ma’am, we still need you to come with us,” one of the two on the ground called to her.

 

“Agent,” was all Bayley said in response.

 

“What?”

 

“My title is agent,” Bayley corrected. She spoke casually but as she did she subtly moved her thumb to hit a control on the side of her LMG. None of them saw it but she’d just targeted her seeker mine on the humvee itself.

 

“Are you going to give us trouble?” the gunner called down.

 

“Are you going to start it? All I’m trying to do is use the road. You’re the ones who just rolled up on me,” Bayley pointed out.

 

“You need-” one man started to say when the passenger opened on the hummer.

 

“Stand down,” a female voice called. A moment later a woman with dark eyes and hair appeared. 

 

“Captain we-” one of the men said but the woman shut him down with a glance.

 

“Agent, my name is Captain Sonya Deville with the Illinois national guard. I apologize for my men, they’ll be punished for aiming a weapon at you. The guard is trying to find any Division agents we can, we really need their help and we’d appreciate it if you’d come with us,” Deville said. She spoke in a reasonable tone, but Bayley’s suspicion was not allayed.

 

“As I explained to your men, Captain, Division Agents are autonomous. And I prefer to work that way. That being said, if you want to have your CO at the JTF contact me I’d be happy to discuss cooperating in the future. Something about Bayley’s words clearly annoyed Deville. Bayley assumed it was her refusal to do as she was told, but she got the sense that something about the mention of the JTF has contributed too.

 

“The guard is now part of S.H.I.E.L.D command, we’re autonomous from the JTF,” Deville explained stiffly.

 

“Oh…” Bayley said, very surprised to hear this “...Well, in either case, if you have your CO reach out to me I’ll be happy talk with him.” Deville clearly wanted to insist but Bayley took a half step to her right, as she did the seeker mine gave a beep and rolled to maintain its original position beside her. All eyes fell on the small device, and Deville, at least, grasped the significance.

 

“Very well Agent, I’m going to leave you a card that we would very much like for you to call soon. We’re up against it in downtown and we need all the aide we can get,” she said, her voice tight as she approached and handed Bayley a card.

 

“Of course,” Bayley said as she took it. Deville didn’t step back however, instead, she leaned forward and whispered.

 

“Don’t talk too long,” was all she said before she spun on her heel and marched back to the humvee, ordering her men inside as she did. Bayley watched them drive off until the vehicle vanished from sight. Bayley waited another minute before she deactivated her turret and mine before retrieving them. As she did she heard Nattie approach her from behind.

 

“What was that?” the other woman asked, sounding scared.

 

“I have...no idea,” Bayley said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1166! This is incredible, friends! We're just under 100 hits a chapter which, I admit, was not something I expected! But damned if you didn't do it anyway. Way to show ME! 
> 
> To quote 'The Man': "I was prepared to go where I was going without the fans, then you came with me" 
> 
> Thank you!
> 
> We have BIG plans coming up in these next few chapters so make sure to tune in, but why risk it? Just hit that conveniently located bookmark button! If you've already done so, you're awesome, we'd love to hear from you in the comments!
> 
> What did you guys think of this chapter? Bayley probably should have known that people who had never known her as 'Agent Bayley' would have a hard time adjusting to the new model. Was Nattie justified? Or was she lashing out? What was the deal with the mysterious soldiers at the end of the chapter?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	14. New Prey - Sasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even as dangerous a hunter as Sasha Banks needs to re-stock occasionally, and in doing so she discovers new prey.

Sasha had been a sniper for years, she was happiest doing her job for a great distance. All of her recent hunting had been in this fashion, and this had been working extremely well for her so far. But, she was a realist, and she had to admit that some situations called for close in work. This was why she Sasha carried an MP5K with her when she needed to go close quarters she wanted firepower.

 

Yet, it seemed it might not be necessary today.

 

Sasha was in the habit of making mental notes of where she spotted nests of trouble in the city. Usually, this was a hidey hole for some street boss for one of the factions currently warring over the city. But sometimes, like her target today, it was just a group of idiots with guns who had set up shop. Sasha actually preferred these because it made her job much easier. Taking down a group of idiots being easier than the same task against hardened killers.

 

Sasha had been planning to hit this site, a former burrito restaurant, for some time now. Unfortunately, her last hunt had taken several days and she hadn’t been able to devote the time. And now, she noted with dismay, someone had beaten her to it. 

 

The interior of the place was a mess, but Sasha wasn’t sure if it had been that way since the initial panic or if it’s former tenants had simply been extra rough on it. Those same tenants were still present, in the form of seven bullet-riddled corpses. As Sasha surveyed the place she was able to glean several insights about the attack.

 

First, the attacker or attackers hadn’t bothered to be subtle. Judging from the shot distribution and angles, it seemed they’d just marched up to the window and opened fire. Sasha was leaning toward the notion that it had been a single attacker, however. It seemed that there was only one caliber or round that had been used and the pattern made her think the shots had all come from one place.

 

Second, it seemed that the mystery attacker had been on an errand similar to hers. The bodies had all been thoroughly stripped of weapons and ammo. The most dangerous thing Sasha found on them was a pocket knife. This was very frustrating as Sasha had been hoping to find at least a few long arms here. There would be no chance of that now.

 

Third, she believed that she’d encountered this attacker’s work before. She’d stumbled on several such massacres in her travels. Of course, finding corpses was a depressingly regular thing in Chicago these days, she herself was responsible for many of them. But there was a particular clue that linked the other sites to this one. A small symbol notched in the door frames. 

 

Making sure to crouch so a nearby car provided her with some cover, Sasha examined the mark. Interesting, she thought as she looked at the mark. It was a somewhat crude rendering of Brigid’s knot, a common symbol for Celtic culture enthusiasts but whoever had drawn this seemed to be more than a casual fan. Sasha had noted previously that they seemed to prefer the pre-Christian style of the knot. Now it was certainly possible that this was just the only version they knew, but Sasha’s instincts told her otherwise.

 

Interesting trivia though this might be, it didn’t do much to help her. Whoever the mysterious artist or artists were, they had her guns. She could probably track them down if she put her mind to it but she needed a quicker solution. So, leaving the mystery for another day, she simply headed to another nearby site she’d marked. To her growing annoyance, she found that this too had been hit. 

 

She didn’t bother to go down to the street to check this one. Someone had obviously attacked this place with some kind of incendiary, it was still smoking slightly. The interior was a solid mass of black char with no sign of bodies of salvageable gear. And, sure enough, when Sasha checked through her scope she found the same knot scratched on the brick next to the door.

 

Whoever was doing this was starting to get on her nerves. Maybe it would be worth hunting them down.

 

Her third site hadn’t been attacked, which was something to be grateful for at least. There wouldn’t be as much plunder here, but she had to take what she could get. Three men and two women were sitting at the rear of a box truck. Sasha had seen this group levy a ‘toll’ on anyone who tried to walk down this particular street. Those who couldn’t pay, usually had bad things happen to them. 

 

But not for much longer. 

 

Sasha had taken up position in a third-floor window two blocks away with a perfect view of the street. She’d have to do this quickly, otherwise, she’d risk the group scattering. This would leave her with a lot of work to do in hunting them down individually. As the point of this excursion was to recover their weapons she didn’t need to complicate things.

 

Peering through her scope, Sasha exhaled slowly.

 

The first muffled ‘chunk’ sound coincided with one of the women sitting behind the truck falling onto the street. Fast a blink, Sasha cycled the bolt and got the man sitting next to her. Their companions were now aware something was wrong but they hesitated. This was enough to let Sasha hit a second woman. The second man was staring around him with his weapon up, ready to fire. He died in that position. The final woman seemed to finally grasp her peril as she took off running. Unfortunately for her, she chose to run directly away from Sasha on a long open street.

 

One more buck of the rifle and she fell face first onto the pavement.

 

Sasha waited and waited. She was waiting to see if they had any friends who might panic and move or to see if any of them would rise again. Unlikely on the second count, she’d aimed for the head. But nonetheless, she waited. She gave it twenty minutes before she shifted positions, relocating to another shooting position a block closer. Nothing for another twenty minutes. When she was fairly confident she was alone, Sasha hurried out into the street.

 

She wasn’t wearing her usual backpack today, instead, she wore a frame pack that she’d modified for runs like this. She darted quickly between each corpse, collection ammo, and weapons. She ended up with two battered AK’s, an AR-15 that might have just come out of a box, a pair of shotguns, and five pistols. These plus a surprising amount of ammo. Sasha loaded up her pack, taking all the guns and as much ammo as she dared. Of course, this was a lot of weight on her back but she gritted her teeth and did the smart thing. 

 

She descended into the sewer. 

 

She doubted they were ever particularly pleasant, but after months of neglect, there were large parts of the system that were...backed up. Still, this fact was part of the reason why she’d hardly ever encountered another person down here. Which wasn’t to say she ‘never’ had, which was why she had her MP5K out and ready. 

 

Sasha had memorized most of the sewers in and around her home base, and she knew where she had to go now. But it was a long way when she was carrying as much as she was and she was forced to take frequent breaks. This wouldn’t normally have been a problem, she didn’t encounter another soul, but breathing heavily in a sewer wasn’t the most pleasant thing in the world. 

 

It was almost two hours later that she came upon a particular ladder which she used to ascend up and out of the sewer. It led through a manhole located in a courtyard behind two sets of buildings, so as much as she wanted to flop down and revel in the fresh air she didn’t. She forced her protesting muscles and lungs to work as she ducked through a door in one of the buildings. Once inside, she allowed herself the luxury of a full minute to rest. 

 

Geographically, she was very close to her home base now, but she still had a very long journey in front of her. This was because she always took a very winding and circuitous path to reach her home. This was designed to throw off any tails she might have picked up. And, again, this was much harder when you were overburdened with guns and bullets. Even when she did eventually reach her lair, she still had to disarm the many traps she had set up.

 

Once she was in and had rearmed her defenses, she dropped her heavy pack with the most grateful of grunts. She then stripped and spent the next few minutes luxuriating in the fact that she still had a working shower. She would have liked to spend more time trying to clean up but she was prevented by two things. One, she was always concerned that by making too much use of her shower she might draw attention to her location. Two, she could spend an hour in the shower and she knew the smell wouldn’t be completely gone. That took days.

 

When she’d emerged and toweled off, she walked over to the table where she had a modest communications center set up. She thought about turning on the radio, but unfortunately, the only thing on the air these days were those two Australian idiots broadcasting out of City Hall. Sasha occasionally tuned into their show to learn what sort of message the people in charge downtown wanted to be delivered. It was always bullshit on the surface but she could occasionally glean some real info by reading between the lines.

 

But tonight she had more pressing business. Tuning her shortwave to a specific frequency, Sasha activated a CD player she’d set up and began broadcasting the song “Scream Double R” out into the night. This wasn’t just a love of the song, but it was a signal. Sasha had made contact with another short wave operator who broadcast from a nearby location. Neither of them had wanted to go into specifics, but they had nonetheless worked out a deal. 

 

Whenever Sasha began to play this song, the mysterious man would place a basketball in a particular window of an apartment complex. This complex was only a few blocks from where the JTF was huddled in its HQ. The other operator would check back over the next few days and if a second basketball had appeared next to the first one then Sasha had a meeting. If that was the case, Sasha would know when she began to hear Dean Martin over the airwaves. In exchange for this work, the other operator would find a small cache of supplies stashed in the engine compartment of a particular car courtesy of Sasha.

 

The system wasn’t perfect and often led to missed connections. But this was a price all parties were willing to pay. Sasha and the other radio operator had never met and hadn’t exchanged more than a few words not relating directly to their business. It was, in many ways, Sasha’s ideal relationship. Transactional and focused.

 

As part of her strategy to throw off anyone who might be trying to study her movements, Sasha occasionally would go dark for several days. This usually meant that she holed up in one of her bases and simply stayed there. Usually, she simply read but now she had a new puzzle to work on. 

 

Though she didn’t have a truly eidetic memory, it wasn’t far off from that. Standing at a whiteboard she pinned up a map of Chicago and proceeded to note down everywhere she encountered the symbol of Brigid’s knot. The four locations were seemingly random but Sasha was good at extracting meaning from chaos, and she knew that given more data points she’d find out the truth behind the symbols.

 

Sasha had originally intended to spend the next few days inside, but she’d gotten restless. So after checking for Dean Martin, she took her rifle out and went hunting. She didn’t have any good leads on another agent, so she wasn’t doing much more than putting down street trash. But it was enough to keep her satisfied. She even managed to pick up another few weapons. 

 

As it happened, she only had to wait two days before she heard Dean Martin. When she did, she geared up and then selected one of the dozens of duffle bags she’d accumulated. She stuffed it with some food, water, in addition to a pistol and some magazines. She then returned to her base and put on her carry pack. With a sigh, she set off on the long walk to the meeting place. 

 

Despite her slow pace and frequent rests, Sasha still got there early enough that her contact wasn’t there. This suited her perfectly as she was able to arrange things to her liking. The rendezvous was a former car dealership. Sasha hid her pack in the trunk of one of the display models before decamping to across the street. The dealership’s large windows gave a complete view of the second floor. 

 

She only had to wait a few hours before she caught sight of a woman carefully approaching the dealership. She was clad in JTF urban camo and cradling an M4 carbine. She had the delicately pretty features that only Asian women could manage, though she was moving with the practiced expertise of a trained soldier. Sasha could tell by her body language that she sensed she was being watched.

 

When the other woman ducked into the dealership Sasha keyed her headset and waited. When the JTF soldier reached the second floor, she spoke. “Good evening, Shirai,” was all she said.

 

Io Shirai, that was the woman’s name, jumped in Sasha’s scope. Sasha had left a small radio on a desk, which was how she was speaking to the other woman. Shirai made her way cautiously over to it and picked it up.

 

“ _ Good evening, mysterious lady,”  _ she answered. This made Sasha smile.

 

“Got something for me?” she asked.

 

Shirai, moving very slowly, reached into her satchel and placed a folder on the desk. “Three agent files, they’ve got notes from commander Anderson on them.”

 

“And my stuff?” Sasha asked.

 

“ _ Trash can around the corner,”  _ Shirai answered. Though the files were the most important part of this trade, Sasha also needed the ammunition and other supplies Shirai had just mentioned. She couldn’t source much if any, ammo for her SRS on the street.

 

“Your guns and their ammo are in the trunk of the sedan,” Sasha said before she disconnected. She then spent the next few minutes watching Shirai as she collected the weapons Sasha had left and lugged them out of the dealership. Sasha felt her pain, it was a lot of weight, but that also meant that Shirai had gotten good value. As usual, Sasha waited a long time before she moved but when she did eventually cross the street the sun was almost down. 

 

When she’d retrieved her prizes she didn’t actually look at them until she’d put several blocks between herself and the dealership. But when she finally did give the files a once over with her flashlight, she couldn’t help but smile.

 

Three new targets, three new watches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww yeah, closing in on 1,300 hits! We can do this friends! We can do this!
> 
> Don't forget to leave a kudo or a comment if you liked what you read! We'd love to talk with you!
> 
> What did everyone think of today's chapter? Sasha may be one of the apex predators in Chicago now, but even they have to eat, right? Did anyone recognize the other hunter whose scent she caught during her scavenging? What will that confrontation be like?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	15. Like flies caught in the web - Charlotte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Charlotte to find out what Arn Anderson had planned for her. It's also time for her to find out exactly what the JTF is up against, and how royally fucked they are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I know we usually put the notes at the end, but this one felt like one at the beginning was warranted as well. This chapter is a long one, so get ready for it. But it's also necessary for us to move the plot along and get a look at exactly who the factions are and what the JTF is up against. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this story, it is truly a labor of love. Also a massive shout out to my co-author AP for helping me with this one. This chapter wouldn't have been possible without him!
> 
> _______________________

 

Charlotte grumbled as she climbed out of the large SUV, adjusting her shirt as she stood.  She wasn’t dressed super nice, but Anderson did ask that she clean up a little bit. So instead of her normal comfortable, looser fitting clothes, she was in a nice pair of slacks and a button-down shirt.  She turned to look at Arn. “I can’t believe this was what you needed my help with.”

 

Anderson smiled and nudged her shoulder with his.  “Buck up slugger. We just need to go play nice so they can see our faces.  It’s not like anything is really going to come out of this.

 

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at him before she surveyed the area around them.  “Then why are we doing it?”

 

“This will give us a chance to see the heavier hitting faction leaders in one place.  We’ll be able to observe them interact with each other and maybe get a feel for who is creating alliances.”  

 

Anderson smiled then.  “Besides, Sammartino is probably going to serve some sort of food that _has_ to be better than what they’ve been trying to poison us with at HQ.”

 

Charlotte hummed in agreement as she stepped up to be wanded by security.  

 

“No weapons beyond this point.  If you have any, leave them with your vehicle,” the larger man basically barked in Charlotte’s face.  

 

She cocked an eyebrow.  “No need to get pushy. I didn’t bring any.”

 

The man nodded and waved the wand over Charlotte’s shoulders, hips and then legs.  He waved her in and then repeated the action with Arn. When it came time to check the three JTF members with them, the security guard shook his head.  “They have to stay.”

 

Charlotte glared at the man.  “You mean to tell me that everyone else only took one member of their group in with them?”

 

He shrugged.  “Just following orders.”

 

Anderson put his hand on Charlotte’s arm.  “We understand sir. Evans,” he turned to the other tall blonde of the group.  “You’ve got lead out here. Make sure the rest of them,” he pointed to the two other JTF members, “stay out of trouble.”

 

Evans nodded, her face deadly serious.  “Yes, sir.”  

 

Charlotte laughed as the woman performed a perfect pivot and all but marched back to the other two.  She leaned over towards Anderson as they walked in the door. “Where the hell did you find her?”

 

Arn shrugged.  “CPD. She was one of the first to volunteer for the JTF.”

 

Charlotte chuckled.  “She seems…eager.”

 

Arn smiled.  “She is. Now come on, we don’t want to keep our host waiting longer than we already have.”

 

Charlotte rolled her eyes and followed her mentor and commanding officer through the door.  The inside of the building was lavishly decorated in deep reds and purples, with the low hanging globe lights giving off a soothing, subdued yellow.  It gave the entire interior a very intimate feel. Charlotte looked around at the layout of what had once been a middle of the road hotel and scoffed.  She leaned over towards Arn. “What the fuck is this place?”

 

He turned to look at her curiously.  “You don’t know?”

 

Charlotte merely shook her head, her eyes never stopping their scan of the area.  “Other than it used to be a hotel, I have no idea.”

 

“Welcome to Velveteen Bliss,” a silky smooth voice seemed to float towards them from out of nowhere.  

 

Charlotte’s head whipped around, trying to figure out where it had come from until her eyes focused on a rather short blonde woman with pink tips in her hair approaching them.  The shorter woman stopped in front of them, her smile growing wider as she made eye contact with Arn. “Commander Anderson, such a pleasure to see you again. Welcome back,” she winked as she reached out to touch Arn’s bicep. 

 

“And you must be Lieutenant Flair.  I’ve heard so much about you.”

 

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed, her gut automatically warning her that this woman had ulterior motives on top of ulterior motives hidden behind that disarming smile.  “I’m kind of glad I can’t say the same,” she uttered, a fake smile plastered on her face as well.

 

The shorter blonde laughed, though none of it sounded genuine.  “You were right Arn, this one has quite the sense of humor!”

 

Charlotte couldn’t stop the disgust from showing on her face as the other woman flipped her hair and leaned in towards Arn, who grinned back and slipped the woman’s hand off his upper arm and into the crook of his elbow.  

 

“See!  I told you you’d like her!”

 

Charlotte’s eyes darted between them, it was obvious they shared some kind of history… one that probably predated whatever this building was.  That fact alone made Charlotte’s skin crawl and made her crave a nice hot shower to wash the filth off.  

 

“I’m Alexa Bliss, and I’m co-owner of this establishment,” the shorter blonde extended her unoccupied hand towards Charlotte, who rolled her eyes because it was the woman’s left that had been extended.  Charlotte decided to play nice with the power move and shook it with her own left, the fake smile back in place.  

 

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

 

“Oh, and so polite too!  Come now, you two are some of the last to arrive and I want to introduce you to some of the more esteemed guests we have here this evening before Sammartino starts yammering away.”

 

Charlotte fell in step behind the two as they walked through a curtain to the left of what was once the main reception desk of the hotel.  Once beyond it, the floor plan opened up into a rather large banquet hall with a similar color scheme, though not quite as somber and subdued.  Along the left wall immediately after entering was a large bar that stretched the length of the room and had several people milling around in front of it.   

 

Alex turned and regarded Charlotte over Arn’s shoulder.  “I know you haven’t been here before Lieutenant, so let me be the first to extend an invitation to come back any time.  We offer a wide variety of…services for a wide variety of tastes. There is no judgment here, only pleasure.”

 

Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek to keep her eyes from rolling right out of her head.  “I appreciate the offer, Miss Bliss. I’ll keep it in mind.”

 

“That’s wonderful news,” Alexa smirked, though it somehow still looked a little like a sneer.  “Now let’s get you acquainted with the big time players here, shall we?”

 

She walked them past a table where a rather large man was sitting down, his body taking up and pretty much swallowing the chair he was on.  He was so big that even sitting down, his head was still well above Alexa’s. His face seemed to be stuck in a permanent scowl as if just sitting here among everyone else was repulsive in his mind.  He was dressed in an ill-fitting shirt and a pair of pants that didn’t quite match up, both of them black in color.  

 

Sitting on his right was a decently sized woman, also dressed in black, though her attire looked like it had suffered a little more wear and tear.  Her long dark hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she had big, thick, leather cuffs on both of her wrists. She was intimidating, her size alone making her tower over most people in the room.   

 

And sitting across from them was a man that was wearing some red and black war paint on his face.  He was obviously in good shape, his musculature accented by the red and black clothing that he wore.  Alexa gestured at them as they walked past. “That would be Kane, he’s the so-called leader of the Demons, though I’m not so sure they actually have a _leader_ per se.  Next to him is Nia Jax.  She’s his bodyguard, though I’d venture a guess that she may be a little bit more than just that.  And the man with the very… unique choice of makeup is Finn Bálor. Rumor has it he’s a --”

 

“He’s no one,” Arn interrupted quite abruptly, his eyes narrowing as they made contact with Finn’s.

 

Charlotte leaned over so she could whisper to Arn.  “Isn’t he--”

 

“We’ll discuss it later,” he cut her off with a hiss without looking at her.  “There’s a few around here that we should probably talk about.”

 

That right there was confirmation enough for Charlotte.  She had known Arn most of her life, he had been more of a father figure to her than her own father had.  So when he took _that_ tone, it meant that she was right, but they couldn’t discuss it in detail here.  And that confirmation made her stomach drop and the blood run cold in her veins. She even tried to stop the shiver that was threatening to shoot down her spine.  

 

Finn Bálor used to be _one of them_.  He used to be a Division Agent, was now rogue and apparently working for the Demons.  Of all the factions present, the Demons were possibly the furthest from what the Division was supposed to stand for.  The idea that one of them had not only gone rogue but had done so in such a brazen way… it made Charlotte’s blood boil.  

 

Then it clicked.  _There’s a few around here that we need to discuss._   That meant that there were more rogue agents around than just Bálor.  The question was, how many and who did they side with?

 

Alexa seemed unphased by the whole interaction, simply nodding and humming in agreement.  She continued on and soon had them walking past another table where four people sat in what appeared to be National Guard uniforms.  The bald man sitting there, twirling a tumbler of amber liquid in front of him was the obvious leader. He carried himself with an air of demanded respect like he was someone who was simply used to being obeyed, no questions asked.  Oddly enough his face wasn’t a permanent scowl like a lot of other people in the room. He actually looked a little relaxed and kind of happy as he chatted with the blonde next to him.

 

She was sitting to his left, her fingers resting rather delicately on the stem of a martini glass.  She was of average build and would be what a lot of people considered to be classically hot, though Charlotte didn’t really think so.  The woman laughed at something the leader said, her head thrown back even as she reached out and gently touched his shoulder. Her uniform bore the insignia of Captain, making her the second in command at the table next to the leader who Charlotte could now tell was a Lieutenant Colonel.  

 

Finishing out the group were two rather large men with closely trimmed beards.  They had what appeared to be ballistic vests on top of their uniform shirts, even though no one in the room was supposed to be armed.  They stood behind the Lt. Colonel and the Captain as the two of them continued to sip their drinks and exchange pleasantries.  

 

Alexa actually walked over to that table and smiled at the man and the woman as she approached.  “Lieutenant Colonel Angle, Captain Rose of the SHIELD, this is Commander Anderson and Lieutenant Flair from the JTF.  I believe out of everyone here, your two groups would have the most in common. Oh, and where are my manners. These two strapping gentlemen are Lieutenants Dhinsa and Selmani,” she tosses a wink at both men who just continue staring straight ahead. 

 

Arn reaches out and extends his hand to Angle.  “Of course, always a pleasure to see you again Lt. Colonel.  Maybe once we’re done making our rounds, you and I can discuss a trade agreement for supplies.”

 

Angle nodded, “yeah, I think we can work something out.  Come find us once you’re done playing nice.” He smiled and nodded at Charlotte, who returned it with a polite smile and then followed after Alexa and Arn as they continued on to the head table at the front of the room.

 

As they approached the biggest table in the room, Charlotte could feel Arn’s demeanor change.  Sitting in the middle of the group there was an older man, maybe in his late sixties, with a friendly smile on his face.  He was dressed in a nicely pressed suit of a deep royal blue, his white button-down shirt was pristine and the bright red tie brought the ensemble together.  

 

Alexa brought Charlotte and Arn to the table, standing in front of the man.  “And here we have our illustrious host for this evening. Bruno Sammartino, may I introduce Commander --”

 

Sammartino waved his hand at Alexa.  “No need for any further introductions Ms. Bliss, thank you,” Sammartino said around the large cigar clamped in his teeth. He set it aside before standing and offering a hand to Arn. “I know who these fine people are. Commander Arn Anderson of both the JTF as well as all our local Division Agents.”

 

After only the briefest of hesitations, Arn took the offered hand. Charlotte could tell from a simple glance that both men were actually squeezing quite hard. Surprising, from a man of Sammartino’s age. But then she also noticed the lifetime’s worth of small scars on the man's hands. Clearly, he hadn’t always worn a suit in his line of work. 

 

This and other observations flashed from Charlotte’s trained eyes to her mind. Sammartino was thin, almost wiry, but his shoulders suggested he would once have been built more like Arn. He had a bulge under his right arm that told her _he_ , at least, had been allowed to carry a weapon into the gala. Judging from the size of the bulge, more noticeable because of his thin frame, whatever he was carrying was so big that Charlotte wondered for a moment if it would knock him over if he fired it.

 

“It’s a Taurus revolver, Lieutenant Flair,” Sammartino’s smooth voice cut across Charlotte’s thoughts. She winced involuntarily at being caught so obviously staring. “An absurd gun for a man my age to be carrying, if indeed men my age should not have put our weapons down altogether.  But I must admit to a certain proclivity toward sentimentality in my character. A weakness perhaps, but it is mine.”

 

Charlotte chose to simply remain silent. Folding her arms and fixing the old man with a look that was not _quite_ a glare.

 

This only seemed to amuse him as he chuckled softly and leaned toward a much younger woman sitting beside him. “You might learn something from the good Lieutenant, Mella my dear. A distinguished career in the Airforce, I do thank you for your service Lieutenant…” here he nodded to Charlotte but didn’t seem to expect a response “...Putting herself through medical school when this whole mess began. Now an agent of the Division...quite the resume.”

 

The young woman gave Charlotte a disinterested glance before tossing out: “She don’t look like much Nonno.” She was going to back to ostentatiously inspecting her nails when Sammartino spoke.

 

“Carmella.”

 

Sammartino hadn’t raised his voice or changed it in any way. Yet somehow that single word affected the people around them as though an ice cold blast of wind had suddenly swept through the hotel. Everyone sat up straighter, even this Carmella girl. The three syllables carrying as much of an implied threat as the sword of Damocles. Sammartino waited for a few moments, letting the tension build.

 

“The Commander and the Lieutenant are our guests here tonight, as such, we will _all_ be extending them the courtesy both their status and distinguished records entitle them to.”

 

“Yes, Nonno…” Carmella said in a voice containing a thinly veiled sulk at the public rebuke. But she stood and, putting her hands on Charlotte’s arms, leaned in to air kiss her on both cheeks. “Welcome, I hope you’re enjoying the party,” she said, mechanically.

 

“Thanks,” Charlotte muttered, fighting the urge to wipe her cheeks with her hand. She took this moment to really study the other woman for the first time. She was dressed in what Charlotte could only classify as a leopard print velvet suit.  Her obviously bottle blonde hair was pulled up into a high ponytail almost directly on top of her head, and her obnoxiously large hoop earrings swayed as she regained her seat.

 

“I do apologize for her, Lieutenant.  My granddaughter isn’t yet quite the woman I hope she will one day become. Still, I hope by paying her more direct attention I can avoid making some of the same mistakes I made with her father,” he said this in the same urbane tone that he’d been using since they arrived yet it now sounded impossibly old.  At this, Charlotte made a mental note to find out exactly who his son was.

 

Sammartino regained his affable mask quickly however as he waved to an empty space at the end of the table’s bench. “But where are my manners, please do sit Commander. I would offer you the same, Lieutenant, but I surmise that you would rather stand?”

 

“Thank you,” Arn said quickly before Charlotte could reply. Sammartino had been correct about one thing, she wasn’t going to sit.

 

“Allow me to introduce the rest of my...ah...staff…” Sammartino said. Retrieving his cigar he used it point first at the small man sitting opposite Arn at the far end of the booth. “And my second in command if you will, Nunzio.”

 

The man was the literal embodiment of every “Italian” stereotype one could think of.  He was in a suit at least, but his white button-down shirt was open to about mid-sternum and he was wearing several large gold necklaces.  His hair was slicked back and he reeked of cologne. He simply winked at Charlotte before turning to face Arn and asking: “Hey, how you doing?” in perfect ‘Goodfellas’ diction.

 

Charlotte didn’t waste any time on the man. Her attention was being drawn now to the three other people present. There was something about them that screamed danger, but not in an organized way.  There was leadership among them for sure, but it was obvious in the way they carried themselves that it was more of a suggested leadership and not a chain of command. It was the order imposed in a pack, not a unit.

 

The one sitting next to Carmella had dark purple, borderline maroon hair in an undercut and wore a lot of eyeliner and dark lipstick that brought out her eyes.  She was heavily tattooed and showed them off proudly, her well-toned arms on display in a short sleeve, vest combo despite the Chicago winter. Her eyes quickly assessed Charlotte before narrowing, obviously seeing Charlotte as a possible threat, but her body language denoting nothing but confidence.  

 

“These lovely ladies are my personal bodyguards. Lieutenant Flair, you might not know them, but I suspect that the Commander does. Perhaps you’d like to introduce _your_ agents?” Sammartino said, laying the barest stress on the word ‘your’. Regardless, Charlotte’s eyes widened slightly as Arn’s narrowed. _His_ agents?

  


“Lance Corporal Ruby Riott,” Arn ground out as he nodded to the tattooed woman, his tone of voice making Charlotte’s hairs stand on end. Riott acknowledged her name with an insolent smirk.

 

“Officer Sarah Logan,” Arn spat out next.  The woman who was standing behind Riott’s right shoulder stiffened as he addressed her.  Her brunette hair was pulled back in an intricate braided design that ended in a ponytail.  Her face had some form of war paint on it with three red, vertical lines running over her left eye.  And her attire was more mountainous and hearty than that of her counterparts. It almost seemed as if she was trying to copy the look of one of the Demon clans. Her eyes were sharp and barely stayed still as they danced between Arn and Charlotte.  But unlike Riott, her eyes carried a hint of craziness behind them, almost as if she was itching for a fight and wouldn’t be happy until she had one.  

 

Charlotte knew Sarah Logan’s type. She was a mad dog, but she’d be a quiet one until someone pointed her at a target. Logan wouldn’t be the brains of her pack, but she was probably the muscle.

 

“And of course, Liv Morgan.”

 

The diminutive blonde, who was sitting on Sammartino’s other side, actually giggled and blew Arn a kiss, causing his top lip to pull back into a sneer.  She was slight in stature, not intimidating or imposing like Logan or Riott, and definitely not as well built. In fact, she seemed to have taken pains to highlight this fact. There was something...juvenile about her look.

 

Her hair was styled in pigtails with pink tips that, oddly enough, worked with her pale complexion.  She was wearing glasses, which didn’t seem right to Charlotte, almost as if they were fake. And her clothes… well, it looked like she had raided a Hot Topic, pulled whatever she could find off the shelf, put some rips in them and called it a day.  It was a mix and match ensemble of varying patterns and colors that somehow managed to work in her favor. 

 

The whole look reminded Charlotte of some 13-year-old suburban girl’s version of rebellion. Yet no teenager anywhere would make her feel as uneasy as Liv Morgan did. It was odd, given the company she was in, but Charlotte sensed that the tiny woman was the second most dangerous person in the group behind only Sammartino himself. Something in Morgan’s eyes bespoke a carnal love and lust for chaos and violence. Riott might be the cunning one, and Logan the attack dog, but Morgan was the psycho.

  


“I recruited them to the Division…” Arn explained coolly to Charlotte. He paused before addressing the three women directly, saying: “I am surprised to find you here agents, given that a priority request was sent out to all Division personnel to report to JTF HQ.”

 

“Oh was that what that was?” Riott mocked.

 

“This little old thing? I could never figure it out,” Morgan added as she nodded at the dark ISAC node on her shoulder. She spoke in a chipper tone of voice with a matching smile and giggle. Charlotte wanted to punch her.

 

“The good agents are simply obeying their directive, Commander,” Sammartino put in.

 

“Is that so?” Arn asked, with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Isn’t the Division’s purpose to work toward continuity of government? Then where else should it’s agent’s be then with the government of Chicago? Or the JTF for that matter, shouldn’t it be working with civil authority?” Sammartino asked around the cigar he’d clamped between his teeth once again. Charlotte wondered why he hadn’t lit it.

 

“Were there a legitimate government of the city, I would agree,” Arn countered. Charlotte saw Carmella stiffen and Riott lean forward at this but Sammartino just chuckled. He didn’t respond, instead, he simply waved at Nunzio.

 

“Who controls City Hall? Who is sending out patrols to clean up the streets? Who’s keeping people fed?” Nunzio asked, his tone hostile.

 

“All out of the warm generosity of your hearts I’m sure,” Arn commented dryly.

 

“What’s the JTF doing for anyone huh?” Nunzio retorted.

 

“Gentleman, please…” Sammartino intervened before turning to Arn “...Commander, we are clearly at an impasse as to the exact nature of what constitutes a government. I maintain that my people and I have established one, you disagree. And as much as I might wish to indulge in a debate over the nature of when control becomes governance I hardly think now is the time. So let us address this matter practically.”

 

“Please,” Arn said as he leaned back and folded his arms.

 

“The JTF presently controls only a small block of territory in the Northwestern portion of downtown. Less than one fourth what City Hall does. Furthermore, you are surrounded on all sides by Mr. Kane’s interesting people.” He punctuated this last remark by gesturing with his cigar across the hall toward where the bald giant was glowering down at people around him.

 

“Your numbers are dwindling and you have no obvious means of replenishing them. You can’t receive aid from outside as our friends at the SHIELD control the airport, the Demons control the roads in and out of town, and we have the lakefront. Your supply situation is, I am told, shaky at best. Neither of these things can be particularly conducive to high morale. So I ask you, in all candor, would it not be better for us to work together, amicably, to solve the problems facing our city?”

 

“I’m listening,” Arn said. Charlotte frowned at this, he couldn’t seriously be considering cooperating with the Administration, who was by all accounts the mafia, except in name?

 

“I won’t press you for an answer now, and we can negotiate particulars later. I’m afraid that Ms. Bliss here…” he gestured toward the tiny blonde who had been standing silently by “...And her partner have asked that I address the gathering soon.” He passed a hand over his eyes at this and suddenly seemed his advanced age again. “But I would encourage you to stick around for the message.”

 

“Perhaps we will,” Arn answered coolly.

 

“In any event, I’m glad to see that the JTF is willing to ‘play ball’ as it were. Please, enjoy the rest of the party. You can be assured that we are all under a truce until sun up tomorrow.” Sammartino said as Logan opened a door in the rear of the booth to allow him, Carmella, Morgan, and Riott to leave.

 

Charlotte watched them go, a sickening feeling settling in her stomach.  What Sammartino had described, the current condition of the JTF… there was no way that was true.  Arn would have said something if that was the case. She was basically his second in command after all.  There was no way he would keep something _that_ big from her.  RIght?

 

Alexa turned to both of them and cleared her throat, pulling Charlotte out of her musings.  “He is an interesting man if nothing else. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there are things I must attend to before dinner is to be served.  Please, enjoy yourselves, make yourselves at home. The bar is fully stocked and there is table service provided by our highly trained staff.  Please do not hesitate to let me know if there is anything else you need.”

 

Arn smiled and thanked her before pulling Charlotte off to the side of the room and away from most of the people.  Charlotte waited until they were far enough away that what she was about to say wouldn’t draw any unwanted attention.  She stopped and pulled her arm out of Arn’s grip. “What the hell was _that_?” she hissed.  

 

Arn’s face remained impassive.  “What was what, Lieutenant?”

 

Charlotte rolled her eyes.  “Don’t play dumb with me Arn.  You can’t be seriously considering making a deal with the Administration.”

 

“Not right now, no.  But we have to play nice because there may come a time when we need his help,” Anderson shrugged as he continued to scan the group that had gathered.  

 

“No,” Charlotte argued.  “There’s no way we ever make a deal with him.  You know as well as I do what all of these factions are out there doing.  Arn,” she pleaded, “we don’t need them. We’ll be okay on our own.”

 

Arn sighed, the defeat obvious on his face.  “He wasn’t wrong, Charlotte. The Division and the JTF are currently fighting a losing battle.  We need more resources, more people, more supplies. And right now, all of those are being controlled by one of these factions in the room.  It may just come down to the lesser of all evils.”

 

Charlotte just stared at him, the reality of the situation starting to make itself known.  “We’re not just here to show face, are we?”

 

“No.  I wish I could say that this was all a PR stunt, but it’s not.”

 

“Shit,” Charlotte cursed as she ran a hand through her hair.  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

 

Arn smiled, “because it’s not your job to worry about things like this.  It’s mine. But,” he paused and pointed at two men standing by the bar. “There’s no time like the present for you to start learning.  Those men over there call themselves the Revival. Their real names are Scott Dawson and Dash Wilder, but they prefer you call them the Revival for some reason, no one knows why.  They’re some of the more successful arms runners in the city right now, and Shirai is running low on inventory.”

 

Charlotte simply looked at him as he waited.  “Okay….? What does that have to do with me?”

 

He waved her towards them.  “You’re up Slugger. Go get us some weapons.”

 

Charlotte’s face fell.  “No,” she started shaking her head, the speed of it increasing as Arn started to walk away.  “Don’t do this to me, Arn. Please, don’t make me do this!”

 

“You’ll be fine,” he waved at her over his shoulder.

 

“Fuck,” Charlotte breathe out as she turned to take in the two men.  They were about the same height and build. The only thing that really set them apart was their hairstyle and facial hair.  

 

She sighed.  “No time like the present, he said.  Time to learn, he said. You got this Flair,” she grumbled to herself as she took a deep breath and then squared her shoulders.  “Here we go,” she breathed out as she approached the two men.

 

She walked up and slid into a vacant spot next to them at the bar.  She pretended to mind her own business while she ordered a double Blanton’s on the rocks.  After standing there for a few minutes and sipping on her drink, she turned to them. “Gentlemen, I’m sorry for interrupting, but I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.  I’m Lieutenant Flair from the JTF.”

 

Both men stopped talking immediately and turned to face her.  One of them glared at her while the other smirked. “And what can we do for the JTF today, Lieutenant Flair?”

 

Charlotte cocked an eyebrow.  “It depends on what you have to offer when it comes to trade.”

 

“Well, that’s interesting.  What exactly are you looking for?”  


“Semi-automatic rifles first and foremost.  But we could also use small arms and explosives as well. ”

 

They turned to look at each other, having a silent conversation among themselves.  While they discussed, Charlotte’s eyes did a sweep of the room, finally landing on Arn and Finn Bálor having a rather aggressive conversation in the corner.  Arn’s body language was not comfortable, it screamed that he was agitated about something that they were discussing. Bálor, on the other hand, seemed relaxed and at ease, though he was talking rather animatedly with his hands.  

 

Before Charlotte could study what was happening between them, the Revival appeared to have finished their own discussion.  “If we could offer you around ten rifles of the M4 variety, and about fifteen semi-automatic pistols of varying makes and models, what would be in it for us?”

 

Charlotte took a second to do some calculations in her head and stalled by taking a sip of her drink.  “The JTF is willing to provide food, clothing and other supplies as a trade for them.”

 

“Not good enough,” Wilder rebutted immediately.

 

Charlotte cocked her eyebrow again.  “Not good enough? What were you expecting?”

 

“We know your armory has a decent amount of incendiary devices, particularly grenade launchers, and some heavy duty ballistic armor.  We want that,” Dawson smiled in fake politeness.

 

“And you’ve lost your minds,” Charlotte bit back easily.  “There’s no way I’m going to trade top level ballistic armor for some rifles.  And you can forget about anything that explodes. That’s off the table as well, so try again.”

 

Wilder narrowed his eyes at her.  “What would get us on the level where we could discuss things that explode?”

 

Charlotte chewed on her bottom lip in thought.  “What do you have?”

 

“A few Mossberg 590 Shockwaves, more than enough M4’s, a Remington Defense XM2010, and a Fostech Origin.  Give us a few grenade launchers, with munitions, and toss in a vest or two and we have a deal.”

 

Charlotte stopped short, her brain short-circuiting at the casual dropping of a sniper rifle and a fully automatic shotgun into the deal.  She knew first hand that Shirai was having a hard enough time getting Glock’s in the armory, let alone anything specialized. Meaning that the only ones on the street who had good, reliable weapons were the Division agents.  The JTF was stuck with a mixed bag of pistols and rifles, with barely enough ammo to make them mean anything. So where the hell were these two getting these types of weapons, and how?    

 

She cleared her throat and focused.  “As tempting as all of that is, you’re still not getting anything that explodes.  Try again.”

 

They turned and started another silent discussion among themselves, leaving Charlotte to go back to wondering exactly what these two had in their inventory and how she could go about finding out.  Even if they couldn’t lock in a deal, she could at least report back to Arn about the kind of weaponry they were providing to the other factions.  

 

 _Speaking of Arn,_ Charlotte thought as her eyes narrowed when they landed on her Commander again.  He was still discussing something with Bálor, but now it actually looked like he could be threatening the rogue agent.  His finger was in Finn’s face, he was breathing heavy and his face was redder than usual. None of this seemed to phase the other man, however, as he leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face.  Charlotte wondered briefly what they were talking about. _And why is Arn talking to a rogue agent anyway?  Could he be trying to bring Bálor back into the fold?_  

 

“Two grenade launchers, three ballistic vests and a case of grenades for the Remington and two Mossbergs.  Plus the original agreed upon ten M4’s,” Dawson stated, bringing Charlotte back to the issue at hand.  

 

Charlotte’s glare turned to the two men.  “I don’t think you understand me, gentlemen, when I say that the grenades and launchers are off the table.  Unless you have something really unique that you think I might want.”

 

Wilder grunted.  “Now you’re just fishing to find out what we have.”

 

Charlotte shrugged and placed her drink down, prepared to walk away.  “Maybe. Maybe not. What I do know is that I’m proposing an open line of trade with the JTF that will be held exclusively by you two.  We’re always in need of weapons and ammunition, and will have technology, food, and medicine as trade options.”  

 

She had turned her back on them and was beginning to walk away, silently counting to herself.  At seven, Wilder cleared his throat. “We get sole weapons trade with the JTF.”

 

“You would be the only group we would deal with, yes,” Charlotte confirmed as she turned back to face them, her hands resting on her hips.

 

“Four crates of food, two functioning computers, four long-distance radios, two crates of water, and two crates of medicine… insulin, antibiotics, bandages.  Give us that and we have a deal,” Dawson stated.  

 

Charlotte considered this for a second.  “I can give you that for fifteen M4’s, the fifteen semi-auto pistols, and the Remington.”

 

Dawson shook his head.  “The M4’s and the pistols, yes.  The specialized weapons will cost you more.”

 

Charlotte extended her hand.  “That will work, for now.”

 

Wilder shook it.  “We will be in touch about time and location.”

 

“I look forward to that call,” Charlotte nodded, shaking Dawson’s hand next. 

 

With that, the two men turned and disappeared into the crowd, a quiet conversation about logistics occurring between them.  “Good riddance,” Charlotte mumbled as she watched them go, her hand absentmindedly picking up the drink she had placed on the bar.  It probably wasn’t a great idea for her to be drinking anything, but with the truce in place until the morning, she felt like she could indulge a little.  Plus there was just something about those two that made her feel like she had to take a drink to steady her nerves.

 

How they managed to get the weapons they were describing still bugged her.  Add that to the fact that they were obviously knowledgeable about what they had and how to utilize them… that made for a dangerous and unsettling combination.  It was something she would have to look into once she got back to HQ.

 

After she finished her drink, she turned to look for Arn, hoping to catch him still in the discussion with Bálor.  Whatever they were discussing, it didn’t look like something they wanted a lot of people to know about. Unfortunately, the corner they had been in was empty now, so Charlotte leaned back against the bar.  It would be easier for Arn to find her than it would be for her to go looking for him. Plus, this would give her time to assess the other people in the room. 

 

Her eyes drifted almost lazily across the crowd that was gathering.  She had suspected it at the door, but it seemed as though Sammartino had only put the JTF at the disadvantage of only having two representatives actually inside.  She sighed as she settled in and started focusing in on the Demons. Based on her own missions and what she had been hearing around HQ, they were becoming more of a problem than anyone wanted to admit, especially since Kane had taken on some form of leadership over all of the smaller groups.  

 

“I’m telling you, it’s just one person!”

 

“There’s no way that _one person_ is causing that much chaos.  Not to mention the different killing styles!”

 

The two men to Charlotte’s right were getting heated over whatever they were discussing, making it almost impossible for her to miss what they were saying.  Not shifting her body language or her line of sight, Charlotte figured whatever they were arguing about was more interesting than simply people watching. Besides, she was rather good at multitasking.

 

“If they’re two different people, then how do you explain why all of the kills are in the same general area?”

 

“Coincidence,” one of them scoffed.  “I’m telling you, a single gunshot to the forehead, _zing!_ Right between the eyes is completely different than someone who sets everything on fire and leaves a calling card.”

 

The first man rolled his eyes.  “So you’re saying that there’s two crazy assholes out there butchering us?  It just doesn’t add up, man. I promise you, it’s one person. Besides, _two_ people wouldn’t be _that_ thorough.”

 

“What do you mean, thorough?” the second man asked.  

 

“No one’s here to talk about them, are they?”

 

“If no one’s survived, then how do I know that one has red hair and the other one, purple,” the second man countered.  He smirked when he seemed to silence his buddy.

 

“Are you two talking about Straight Fire again?” a third man approached, three glasses grasped in his hands.

 

“And the Ghost,” the second man interjected.  “Don’t forget about the Ghost.”

 

“Right,” the newcomer rolled his eyes.  “Straight Fire and the Ghost. Complete myths if you ask me, just stories that parents have made up to help their kiddies sleep better at night.  But, you didn’t ask me, so let’s go. Miss McMahon wants us to check the perimeter again.”

 

The first guy got to his feet, groaning as he did.  “I thought this was supposed to be a party, not work!” he protested as he and his two friends started heading towards the door.  

 

 _Miss McMahon?_   Charlotte thought to herself.  _They weren’t part of the group that got introduced.  What are they doing here?_ She wondered as her eyes started desperately scanning the crowd.  If the McMahons were here that meant that this meeting just got a little more interesting.  

 

The McMahon Corporation was supposedly working on a cure and were close.  That is if all of the talk around the city was to be believed. Regardless of how close they actually were, it would be a major stride forward if the JTF could find a way to open trade talks with them.  To be put bluntly, the McMahons were some of the wealthier people in the city, both pre and post-Green Poison. And if they were that well off before the city went to hell, it was a guarantee that they would have a lot of supplies available to trade for.  If she could just get eyes on their group and let Arn know, they could walk out of her with a more solid win than the Revival.

 

Charlotte’s eyes continued to scan the group, deciding that staying by the bar was probably easiest to spot the McMahons.  It was situated with a view of the entire room and there wasn’t anything set up behind her, so she could see everyone who was here.  As she was looking, several words cut through her thought process about trade deals and how best to approach opening that avenue.

 

“...it’s pretty big at this point, so I’ve heard.  But there’s not a lot of protection there. Something about it being too far south for JTF or Division agents to help.”

 

Charlotte’s eyes darted quickly to her left and took in the two Demons that were sitting there.  It was odd seeing them acting almost civil when she was so used to them being violent and vicious, killing anything they came across.  

 

“So what I’m hearing is that there’s a settlement ripe for the picking basically on our doorstep.  Does Tamina know about it?”

 

The demon closest to her was smaller than the other.  He shrugged. “Beats me, and why would we tell her anyway?  It’s our intel, we should be the ones to raid it.”

 

“You know she’s the one running our Tribe right now.”

 

“She shouldn’t be,” the shorter one countered.  “You and I both know her taking charge was total fucking bullshit.”

 

“So what are you proposing?”

 

When the shorter one smiled, a warning slithered slowly down her spine.  “We do one of those coup things. We take some of the guys, go South and slaughter whoever is in that school.  Then we take their supplies and the building. It has to be a strong foothold if they’ve been able to keep it as long as they have.”

 

A man dressed in a suit slid in next to them at the bar.  By the look of the cut and design of his clothes, he was most likely Administration.  It was odd that even now after the world had basically ended, the different factions were still wearing uniforms of sorts.  He smirked at the Demons even as he ordered a beer. “You’re not worried about that new group that’s been rumored down south?”

 

The taller Demon turned and towered over the suit while the shorter one scoffed.  “What? You mean that whack job, religious leader? What’s his name…” he snapped his fingers a few times, trying to remember.

 

The suit nodded.  “Wyatt, and that’s exactly what I mean.  I’ve heard his following has grown pretty fucking big since the fall of the city.”

 

“That’s bullshit,” the taller Demon said, his chuckle echoing loudly off the wall behind them.  “All rumors, and not a lick of truth to them.”

 

Shrugging, the man from the Administration started walking away.  “If you say so. Good luck though, especially if that’s where your Tribe usually hunts.”

 

The two Demons flipped him off as he walked away before turning and starting their conversation up again… a conversation that Charlotte had every intention of listening in on, except Stephanie McMahon had just walked in with two men flanking her on either side.  They were both men worth acknowledging, having appeared at media events right next to Stephanie. The first was her head of security, a large man with a practically shaved head and a beard. Triple H was the name the media used, but Charlotte sort of remembered his name being Hunter or something.  And the other one was Ms. McMahon’s personal bodyguard. He was a little hot under the collar and had a temper that got him into trouble too often for his own good. His name was John Cena and he never let anyone forget it.  

 

Charlotte straightened and went to approach them, scanning the room once more for Arn.  This was a meeting that they should both handle, if at all possible. Plus Charlotte was still really green when it came to hashing out trade deals, and she could really use Arn’s charm on Ms. McMahon.  Relief spread through Charlotte’s body when she spotted Arn standing in the same corner he had been talking to Bálor in. And just like last time, he wasn’t alone.

 

This time, the person he was with was much worse than Bálor.  This one was rogue simply for the money. He was nothing more than a mercenary for hire with the prestigious training of the Division under his belt.  Fucking Randy Orton. It was a name that every one of the Division agents knew, simply because his name was said with such venom around HQ as a warning sign of what could happen if you strayed.

 

Charlotte swallowed hard, her nerves returning full force.  _Should I go over there and see what they’re talking about?  This conversation looks worse than the one he was having with Bálor._

 

Charlotte’s feet made the decision for her as she started moving towards her mentor and the rogue agent without actually thinking about it.  She was so focused on what was happening in front of her, that she never heard footsteps coming up from behind until a hand wrapped around her wrist, and tugged her backward.

 

Charlotte spun around to confront whoever had grabbed her.  “What the fuck do you think --”

 

“Lottie?”

 

Charlotte’s voice seized in her throat, the words stopping short and ending in a high pitched squeak.  

 

“I thought that was you!  What are you doing here!?” the woman laughed as she pulled Charlotte into a tight hug.

 

Charlotte’s mind finally caught up with the situation as her arms wound tightly around the shorter woman’s shoulders.  “Tessa?”

 

Tessa turned her head and buried it into Charlotte’s neck, even though she had to stand on her toes to do so.  “Hey, you. I missed you.”

 

Charlotte leaned her cheek on the top of Tessa’s head and she took a deep breath, just taking in the scent of the woman she hadn’t seen in so long.  “Hey,” she sighed. “I missed you too. So much.”

 

They stayed that way for a few more seconds, both hesitant to let go.  Finally, Tessa pulled away. “I thought you were overseas. What are you doing here?”

 

Charlotte smiled as Tessa’s hand gripped hers and intertwined their fingers, making Charlotte feel for the first time since the outbreak that things were going to be okay.  “I was. But then I was back stateside for a few months when this happened. And now here I am.”

 

Tessa’s eyebrow rose slightly, the hurt flashing through her eyes momentarily.  “You’ve been stateside for months? Where?”

 

Charlotte looked down and cleared her throat, nervousness setting in.  There was no way Tessa wasn’t about to get really upset by her answer. “Scott Airforce Base.”

 

“Four hours!?”

 

Charlotte winced at her friend’s outburst.  “I… I didn’t know if you were still in the area, let alone if you’d want to see me.”

 

Tessa tugged on Charlotte’s hand until the blonde was looking at her.  “Of course I would want to talk to you. Why wouldn’t I?” she asked as she gently rubbed the back of Charlotte’s hand with her thumb.

 

Charlotte’s free hand rubbed at the back of her neck.  “Because of the last time we saw each other…”

 

“Hey,” Tessa soothed.  “Did you ever stop to think that maybe things might have changed in the last few years?”

 

Charlotte shrugged noncommittally, her shirt riding up slightly.  

 

Tessa froze, her hand tightening around Charlotte’s.  “Lottie? What is that?”

 

Charlotte looked down, confused.  “What is what?”

 

Tessa’s free hand darted out and lifted Charlotte’s shirt.  “That,” she accused her finger jabbing at the bright orange ISAC node attached to Charlotte’s belt.  

 

Charlotte looks from her node to the brunette and back.  “It’s my…. It’s my ISAC node. Why?”

 

Tessa blinks a few times.  “You’re Division.” She shakes her head, a sigh escaping from her.  “Of course you are. Why wouldn’t you be?”

 

This time Charlotte tugs on Tessa’s hand.  “Hey, what’s the problem? Nothing’s changed.  I’m still me, it’s just another job.”

 

Tessa’s eyes drop to the floor.  “It actually changes quite a bit.”

 

Charlotte bent slightly at the knees, trying to catch the brunette’s eye.  “Why?”

 

Tessa closes her eyes briefly before making eye contact with Charlotte.  “Because I’m at Soldier field. Actually, my dad is running it. And we can’t really be seen showing favoritism to any of the factions, otherwise, it will ruin our reputation as a neutral zone.”

 

Charlotte felt her heart drop.  Whatever she and Tessa had been to each other in the past, it was becoming more and more clear that it wouldn’t be happening yet, or any time soon.  “Okay. So we shelf the situation from a few years ago. Does that mean that we can’t be in contact with each other? Because I really missed my best friend.”

 

Tessa’s smile is small and wistful.  “I don’t see why not. As far as anyone else needs to know, I’m discussing trade with a Division Agent… seems plausible to me.”

 

“Me too,” Charlotte nods.  Her eyes dart quickly around the room.  “So your dad is running the Soldier Field settlement, huh?  Is he around? I haven’t seen him since that barbeque my dad tried to throw for everyone while we were in… what, our senior year of college?”

 

“Yeah, I think that was senior year,” Tessa beams as she remembers that particular day.  “Don’t tell Ric, but he can’t grill for shit.”

 

Charlotte snorts.  “Oh, he knows. So your dad?”

 

Tessa’s eyes scan the crowd.  “He’s definitely here somewhere.  Saw him and Arn having their typical yelling match about something, but now…ah, who knows.  He’s probably gone in search of food or something.”

 

Charlotte smiles fondly.  “I’m sure that’s it. Glad to see some things never change.”  

 

“I’m assuming you’re here with Arn?”

 

Charlotte nods, “yeah.  We’re the JTF delegation if you will.”

 

“You may want to go save him.  He looks like he’s losing whatever argument he’s having,” Tessa points to where Arn was still arguing with Orton.

 

Charlotte nods, “I’d better go.”  She turns and smiles at Tessa, tucking some stray hair behind the brunette’s ear.  “It was really good to see you. Hopefully, I can see you on the next supply run we have to Soldier Field.”

 

Tessa nods, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip.  “I would like that.”

 

“Okay, I will definitely be in touch.  See you around Rockstar.”

 

Tessa laughs.  “Not if I see you first, Queen.”

 

Charlotte laughs as she turns and starts to walk away from the brunette and towards Arn and Orton who had actually gotten closer to each other, the argument looking like it was getting worse.  She was still about twenty feet away before another hand grabbed her wrist, spinning her around roughly.

 

Charlotte tried to keep her footing with how violently she had been turned.  Half expecting it to be Tessa again, she didn’t lash out. But when she came face to face with a man who was about her height and was wearing a Sheriff’s uniform from a nearby county, she knew this conversation wasn’t going to be pleasant.  

 

It didn’t help that his eyes were glassy as if he had a few too many to drink at this point.  “Can I help you?” Charlotte asked cooly, her eyebrows raised in challenge and her arms crossed over her chest.  

 

“Yeah,” he all but slurred, his finger pointing in her face.  “You with the JTF?”

 

“Yes, I am.  What can I do for you?”  


His finger wavered slightly as he swayed on his feet.  “You can tell me why your ‘Task Force’ pulled all our resources from the outer counties to downtown.”

 

“That’s what this is about?”  Charlotte asked, her voice staying even and calm, even though she was getting annoyed with this man already.

 

“Yep,” he answered with an obnoxious popping of the ‘p’ at the end of the word.  

 

“Deputy,” she paused to read his name tag only to realize he wasn’t wearing one.  “Deputy, I understand your frustration, but that wasn’t our call. The Chief of CPD was the one who made the decision to pull resources closer to the capitol.  That wasn’t a JTF decision.”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” he pressed on.  “You left us anyway.” 

 

“Look,” Charlotte tried to stop him, but he ignored her.

 

“Some of us tried to stay good, tried to … keep fighting, but others gave up.  They turned, turned so fast. Now they’re attacking us… civilians. We can’t keep up with them.  And you,” he points at Charlotte again. “Your people aren’t helping us at all.”

 

Charlotte reaches up and lowers the man’s finger.  “I know you’re probably not going to remember this in the morning, but I’m sorry you feel that way Deputy.  The JTF has its orders and I have mine, just like you have yours. I’ll see what I can do about getting you the supplies you need, but I can’t make any promises.  The JTF’s primary goal is to take back the city.”  

 

She sighs, seeing that the man has basically gone crossed eyed.  She guides him to a chair and gently pushes him into it. “Once we obtain that objective, we can help you take back the outer counties.”

 

Once he was settled and seemed to be placated with her answer, Charlotte turned back to where she had last seen Arn, only to find the corner empty again.  All of these somewhat secret meetings weren’t sitting well with Charlotte, which only increased her desire to find Arn and confront him about it.  

 

But first, she figured she could use a quick break.  Seeing Tessa had really knocked her off her game. And the situation hadn’t been helped by the drunk Sheriff’s deputy either.  So she found an outdoor patio and walked out onto it, coming to a stop in front of a railing that overlooked a garden. Charlotte sighed and leaned against it, willing her brain to just stop racing for a second.

 

“Well, if it ain’t Arn’s little puppy,” a voice Charlotte didn’t recognize pierced what tiny peace and quiet she had managed to find.  

 

Charlotte turned her head and regarded her new companion.  “Orton,” she said as she bit back the sneer that wanted to accompany the welcome.  

 

Orton smirked in a maddeningly condescending manner. “Easy there sweetheart, this is a party after all. Why don’t you go ahead and try smiling?”

 

Charlotte gaped at the audacity of the man standing in front of her.  “Did you… did you just tell me to _smile_?  How about you try again.”

 

Orton chuckled as he joined Charlotte at the railing she’d been standing next to. He was tall with a build that might be called ‘wiry’ but that nonetheless advertised a great deal of strength. “Yeah...I can see why the old son of a bitch likes you.” He waved at the guests standing in the garden and asked: “Looks like you poor JTF assholes finally made it out of the minor leagues, huh?”

 

Charlotte cocked an eyebrow in challenge.  “What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?”

 

“Means you’re a joke, and everyone else in the city is in on it. You think you’re doing much good to anyone hiding in the subway?” Orton taunted as he stopped a passing waitress wearing an outfit that might kindly be described as minimalist. He made no effort to hide how his eyes traveled up and down the girl’s body as she scamped away to escape his reptilian eyes.

 

“Let me guess,” Charlotte’s eyes narrowed at him, her body tensing to stop the shiver of revulsion from sweeping up and down her spine.  “You’re about to give me some much-needed advice on how to come out on top, instead of staying ‘hidden in the subway’ as you put it?”

 

“Nope, unlike Arn I don’t have time to hold anyone’s hand. But you do you blondie, I’m sure he appreciates your cheerleader act…” he paused here to smirk again “...Is that just when he lets you dress up as an operator or is that in his quarters too?”

 

Charlotte bites the inside of her cheek to keep herself from rising to the bait.  “So if you’re not here to give me advice, what exactly are you doing here? Just trying to get a rise out of me?” she asked, the contempt dripping from her tone.

 

“Seems I already have, you gotta learn to play harder to get.  That was too easy,” Orton chided her. He drained his drink in one pull before tossing the glass off to one side where it shattered on the ground. “Nah, I came over here to get a look at Arn’s golden girl. Some people seem to think you’re hot shit.”

 

Charlotte shrugged.  “You get what you see.  Nothing too special going on here.  Satisfied?”

 

“Well, you’re right about one thing...nothing special.” Orton sized her up again before adding, as though to himself: “Really thought Arn would find someone better to be his silver medal.”

 

Charlotte smirked.  “Well, if I’m nothing special, but have somehow managed to still be his silver medal, I’d hate to see who he picked as his gold.  Oh….” she pauses and points at Orton. “Was that you? Because I’ve gotta say I think he made the right choice by calling me up.”

 

If the implied insult had any effect on Orton he didn’t show it, he just laughed as though Charlotte had made some terribly droll observation. “I’d say ‘settled’ but you tell yourself whatever you have to. Too bad for the old man though, what he’s up to I bet he wishes he could have at least gotten Riott. Instead, he’s stuck with the blonde cheerleader. Oh well...I’m sure you’re good in the sack.”

 

Charlotte pauses, obviously trying to decide what part of that comment she’s going to respond to.  “Okay, I’ll bite. What do you mean, ‘what he’s up to’? Because your tone implies that it’s not simply his work with the Division Agents and the JTF.”

 

Orton actually cocked an eyebrow at this and seemed to study Charlotte for a while, as though judging her truthfulness. After a short time, a nasty leer spread across his face as he said: “You don’t know...do you?” Though it was inflected as a question it was clearly a statement.

 

Charlotte’s head tilted slightly to the side like she was trying to decide how much stock she wanted to put in his obvious toying with her.  “Don’t know what?” her skepticism obvious on her face.

 

Orton’s laugh was loud enough to draw eyes from around the garden now. “Oh Jesus, the old bastard is more cunning than I thought. He hasn’t even told you and yet he still has you out here running around like a coffee girl. Well, I guess that tells me all I need to know about how much he trusts you. Guess he figures  a pretty face can handle the ‘go team’ shit for the JTF.”

 

Charlotte bites back the growl that wants to break free.  “Since you seem to know so much about Arn’s plan, care to elaborate on what you mean by the ‘go team’?”

 

“Every team needs a mascot,” Orton said distractedly as he took another drink off a passing tray. “You shuffle the papers, kiss owies, and make everyone feel great while Arn actually works. Yeah, I can see why he’d set that up.”

 

“Actually works on what, exactly?” Charlotte asked, her tone sharp and obviously losing patience.

 

Orton thought for a moment before speaking slyly. “I know something you don’t, Flair. Even you can’t be dumb enough to think information is free anymore.”

 

Charlotte scoffs.  “You’re honestly hinting at a trade for what’s obviously a blatant lie?  I think I’ll pass, but thanks. Gotta give you props for trying though.”

 

“Your loss…” Orton shrugged “...Was me, I’d be interested to know why my boss has been excluding me from all his important conversations tonight.  Or why he never told me about all these rogue agents…”

 

“Good thing I’m not you then, isn’t it?  Now, if we’re done here…” she lets her sentence trail off as she turns to leave.

 

“Strange though…” Orton added as though he were speaking to himself “...You basically raise someone and then when it comes down to it...you don’t trust her.” He finished and tossed his second glass and then took two steps toward Charlotte. “I guess you two ain’t as close as you thought.”

 

 Her eyes narrow.  “He trusts me, just like I trust him.  You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

Orton took another step toward her until he was looming over her and shrugged. “Maybe I don’t, but I can tell you want to know and that Arn hasn’t bothered explaining anything to you...has he?”

 

Charlotte tries to pull herself up to her full height so Orton doesn’t have that much of a height difference on her.  “He’ll tell me when it’s time. I don’t need to hear it from you.”

 

“How has that worked out so far? Do you even know the deal with Bálor?” 

 

“Yeah, he’s a rogue agent who used to be one of Arn’s,” she answers without hesitation.

 

Orton snorted loudly. “Jesus, cheerleader, if you’re going to be this far behind you might as well be open about it. So let’s cut the shit, I got something you want, something you need, what you got for me?”

 

Charlotte hesitates, obviously conflicted with how to proceed.  “Depends on what you’re looking for,” she finally relents.

 

“We’ll work something out…” Orton said as he took another hand step forward, his hand suddenly grabbing Charlotte’s ass.

 

Charlotte jumped slightly at the feeling of his hand on her ass, her own hand darting down out of instinct.  Her hand wraps around his wrist and bends it back as her other hand discreetly pulls a polymer knife out of a concealed sheath.  She places this against the left side of his ribs. “You would do well to remember that my body is off limits, especially to men like you.”

 

As fast as Charlotte’s knife found Orton’s ribs, she felt herself being pushed back against the wall and the cold muzzle of a gun jammed against her own vitals. “Uh uh...be careful now, the guards see that little toy, and you and Arn are done.”

 

Charlotte does growl this time.  “So it seems we’re at an impasse.  How about this for a deal? You tell me what you know and I let you walk out of here in one piece.”

 

Orton actually seemed to be having a good time now as he grinned. “Empty threat, sweetheart. Riott or her girls might do it, but not you. See, if you open me up not only do you die...but Arn and your grunts outside too. And do you think those will come quick?” He leaned in so his face was centimeters from hers. “So here’s the deal, you’re going to put the toy away and I’m going to walk away while you ponder why Commander Anderson wanted me to do your job first, and only settled on you.”

 

Charlotte put some pressure on the knife at his ribs.  “You honestly think I won’t do it? The way I see it, the city will be down one rogue agent driven by greed and as you so eloquently put it earlier “nothing special”.  Seems like a win-win for them.”

 

Orton’s grin (or gun) didn’t waver as he whispered: “But what would the poor boy scouts and girl scouts at the subway do without Commander Anderson or his cheerleader? And besides, you don’t want to know what Sammartino’s girls will do Arn. You want that on your mind right before you die...all because you’re a frigid cunt? Oh and...there’s always that pretty little thing over at Soldier Field…”

 

Charlotte’s eyes narrow as she considers her options.  “You leave her out of this, or I swear to God, I will gut you like the fucking worm you are.”

 

Orton’s eyes lit up. “Oh...so it’s like that huh? You gotta get a better poker face sweetheart. Maybe you’re not cut out for this after all.” Before Charlotte could react he struck with the speed of an uncoiling snake. His lips were shoved roughly against hers in a blink, his own leg moving to intercept her rapidly rising knee before it could connect with his crotch. But then he allowed himself to be shoved roughly backward. 

 

“Just remember this cheerleader, do you really think the walls around your little clubhouse keep everyone who thinks like me out and everyone who thinks like you in?” he said with a dark chuckle before sauntering back into the hotel.

 

Charlotte watched him go, the disgust obvious on her face, her upper lip recoiling back in absolute loathing.  She stood there, seriously considering if it was worth it to follow him and stick her knife in Orton’s back. She may not survive that move, but the world would absolutely be a better place because of it.

 

She grit her teeth, determination settling deep in her bones.  Threatening her was one thing, threatening Arn was another. Threatening the JTF, Tessa and all the people she swore to protect was something completely different.  Her grip tightened on the knife and took a few hasty steps in his direction. 

 

Just as she was cutting down the distance between them, there was a loud tapping noise echoing through the room.  Her eyes left Orton’s back and quickly darted to the stage where Alexa Bliss and a very flamboyantly dressed man were standing.  Charlotte sighed, now that everyone was looking at the stage, there was no way she’d be able to pull off taking Orton out. Not without bringing the heat of all the factions down on the JTF’s head for breaking the temporary truce.

 

She slid the knife back into its sheath and walked over to where Arn was sitting at their table.  She slid in next to him. “We have some things to discuss after this.”

 

Arn simply grunted in response as Alexa tapped the microphone again.  

 

“Esteemed guests, my partner Velveteen Dream and I would once again like to welcome you to Velveteen Bliss.  We truly hope you have been enjoying yourselves this evening and that you will remember us in the future for all of your… pleasuring needs.  Now, please welcome to the stage the head of the Administration, the man who is single-handedly restoring our government even in these very trying times.  Mr. Bruno Sammartino.”

 

Sammartino, who had been standing slightly behind Bliss, bowed graciously in acknowledgment of the applause he received before stepping toward the microphone. He was moving much like you’d expect a man of his age to move, yet his eyes were as alert and sharp as ever. In his expensive suit and with his obvious air of authority he seemed every bit the classic gentleman gangster. 

 

“Friends…” he said began “...I thank you all for coming tonight. And I would like to extend a special thank you to our lovely and most excellent hosts tonight.” As he said this he turned to incline his head toward Alexa and Velveteen.

 

Charlotte watched as the two hosts returned his bow, Velveteen’s a little more obnoxious than Alexa’s.  She tried to hide her scoff behind a quiet cough as Sammartino stood there grandstanding. Everything about this night was a farce, that much was obvious.  And after her encounter with Orton, she couldn’t even enjoy herself anymore. 

 

“Ms. Bliss was so kind as to introduce me as the head of the Administration just now, and though it pains me to do so, I’m afraid I must contradict the lovely lady. For you see, friends, I am not the head of the administration. I am merely a concerned private citizen who has been asked to help shepherd our fair city through this trying time. And though I would like nothing more than to be able to retire at my age, I felt it was my duty to answer such a call.”

 

He looked around the room at this, fairly ridiculous, statement. His expression remained totally gentile but there was something in his demeanor that made clear that any too public expression of skepticism would not be tolerated.

 

“But, I count myself fortunate to be living in a time of giants. Fortunate and humble to be so blessed to live in a time when, surely by the intervention of heaven, there was a whole company of noblemen and women ready and able to do their parts for Chicago.” Here he had to pause to cough and clear his throat but when he’d recovered he first turned to where the giant, Kane, was standing.

 

“The estimable Mr. Kane, who has taken it upon himself to bring some order to the bands of directionless souls who were once wandering the city. Through his efforts, control is being brought from chaos. And we at City Hall hope to be able to cooperate further with him in the future.”

 

 _He seriously cannot be thanking them right now,_ Charlotte thought to herself.  _No one here can honestly believe this man._   She looked around the room, her eyes taking in the different factions and their leaders.  Kane and his band of “wandering souls” were stringing people up after eviscerating them. The only ones who were trying to bring order back to the city were the JTF and the Division Agents.

 

Sammartino next turned to address Colonel Angle where he was standing with his group. “And to our heroic men and women in uniform, working so hard to keep us all safe. We at City Hall would like to thank you for your service.” Here he paused for a polite round of applause before adding: “I am aware that there was an early period of...friction between us but with our new ‘understanding’ of our respective jurisdictions I believe we can look forward to a new period of cooperation that will benefit all of us.”

 

More applause, which Sammartino allowed to go on for quite some time. 

 

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed.  _Period of cooperation?_   Apparently, there was a lot more going on here than Charlotte was aware of.  Between what Sammartino was saying now and what Orton had said earlier, it was becoming clearer that Charlotte was more naive than she had originally thought.  But after tonight, she swore to herself that things were going to change. 

 

Sammartino next nodded to the small cluster of Sheriffs and deputies standing off to one side. “Gentleman, please do not think that City Hall has forgotten about our neighbors outside the city. As soon the situation here has settled and certain...rogue elements are dealt with, we will be happy to assist you all. In the meantime, we fully intend to extend material support to all who show that their values align with ours.” 

 

He paused here and seemed to gather himself for a few moments. “Now, before I allow you to return to your revels, I have four important announcements to make. Announcements that I believe, will kick start the long process of healing our great city. The first is this, the city government will now be re-assuming all policing powers in downtown. Law and order will be restored to our streets once again. Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce that, very soon, a brand new CPD will be back out on the streets!”

 

He waited for a few moments before adding: “Of course, the cornerstone of good policing is working WITH our communities. So, we will continue to rely on our friends and allies like Mr. Kane and Colonel Angle’s superiors to supplement our patrols of areas we do not yet have the resources to properly police.

  


Charlotte chanced a look over at Arn, who looked just as dumbfounded as she did.  He slightly shook his head, showing that he hadn’t known about any of this. Charlotte chewed her bottom lip, the anxiety becoming a little too much to handle at that moment.  A police force back on the street under Sammartino’s thumb?? That was about to make their lives a lot more difficult, putting the lives of Division Agents and JTF members in a lot more danger than they already were.  Sammartino was very quickly climbing her list of threats that would need to be eliminated in the very near future if the JTF was going to get the city back on track.  

 

“We at City Hall recognize that in extraordinary times, extraordinary methods are sometimes called for. And to this end, we would like to take a moment to thank an unsung group of heroes who have been working tirelessly to help stabilize our city. Many of you may not be familiar with Presidential Order 51, or it’s purpose. But all of you will have heard of the Division. Well, tonight we have here with us several agents who have been working non-stop to keep us all safe. And in recognition of their service, we would like to announce that the new CPD will be granting it’s full support to them!”

 

Instead of looking at Arn or Charlotte he turned to one side as his three bodyguards and Randy Orton all strode out onto the stage.

 

“Ladies and Gentleman, allow me to introduce Agents Riott, Logan, and Morgan. And, the official Division Regional Commander...Agent Randy Orton!”

 

Charlotte’s body recoiled instinctively as Sammartino’s words felt like a punch to the gut.  Her hand immediately found its way to her knife and tightened around its hilt. At that exact moment, the severity of the situation slammed into Charlotte’s chest leaving her feeling out of breath.  If she could just take out Sammartino, or maybe Orton… it would be worth it. Arn could claim that she acted alone and without his knowledge.  

 

He could repair what was happening in front of them.  

 

He could fix this.

 

He always had before, so why not now?

 

 _You basically raise someone and then when it comes down to it...you don’t trust her,_ echoed loudly in her mind as Orton’s words from before came back to haunt her.  Her mind quickly flashed on all of the aggravated discussions Arn had throughout the night, and for the first time, Charlotte could feel the cold tendrils of doubt uncoiling in her heart and starting to take root.  

 

What if Arn couldn’t get it done this time?   

 

Before she could move, however, the old man’s hand was on her thigh, keeping her in her chair with a deceptive amount of strength for a man his age.  He shook his head once, almost imperceptibly as if to say ‘not here. Not now.’

 

Sammartino’s eyes seemed to stray to where Charlotte was sitting and for just a moment, a gleam of triumph danced in them. “These are both very good things for everyone in the city, and I am glad I am here to share them with you. But we are all Americans here, and we all know that our system cannot work without the people’s voice being heard. So I am even more excited to announce that, within the next few weeks, the CPD will be distributing ballots to the citizens of our great city. Yes, my friends, there WILL be an election for mayor, the city council, and several other key positions that are currently vacant. And, to calm any concerns, I will tell you all now that I will not be standing for any of these offices.” He paused and allowed the low murmur of surprise to build for a moment before adding: “I am an old man after all, and politics is a young man’s game.”

 

Charlotte shook her head in disbelief.  This could not be the world they were living in right now.  The Green Poison epidemic has been bad, was still bad, but at least it had been indifferent to who it was attacking.  It killed efficiently and ruthlessly without prejudice. That was something they could count on, something they could understand and quantify.

 

Depending on who the people voted into these elected positions could rock everything the people of the city had been trying so hard to restore.  And this evil would be just as efficient, just as ruthless as the Green Poison was. But where they differed was that _this_ evil would kill with a selectiveness that would mean total domination for people like Sammartino.  And judging by the look he just gave her, Charlotte could only assume the JTF and valid Division Agents would be on the top of that list.  Which meant Arn needed to start finding them all and warning them…now.

 

“And now…” Sammartino said dramatically before finally turning to look at Arn and Charlotte “...To our special guests from the JTF.” The shift wasn’t subtle, suddenly every eye in the room was focused on the pair as effectively as if a spotlight had been directed at them.

 

“Commander...Lieutenant…” Sammartino said as he spread his arms wide “...You have both struggled valiantly in service to the people of this city. And for that we thank you. Even more, we thank you for what will surely be your desire to cooperate with the duly elected government of Chicago in the near future. We would welcome your assistance in the future, especially in dealing with any...recalcitrant elements who might not appreciate that the rule of law is returning. The JTF’s has served its purpose nobly, and now it is time for a transition of power.”

 

At this Arn stood up.  “We appreciate the offer Mr. Sammartino and will do our best to operate within the parameters set forth by the newly elected government.  But as most of you know, the purpose of both the Division Agents following Directive 51 and the JTF is to return the city to a peaceful order, with the best interests of the citizens in mind.  As long as the newly appointed government has the same goals as us, we should not have any problems. But heed my words now Mr. Sammartino, should the newly elected government stray from those goals, should they operate with anything _but_ the best interests of the citizens in mind, then the still appointed Division Agents under my command, and what remains of the JTF shall operate according to what has been declared within Directive 51.  Even if it means going against the governing body of Chicago.”

 

This was clearly not the answer Sammartino had been hoping for, and for just a moment this face was shadowed. But his ironclad expression returned quickly. “Of course Commander, and we will be demonstrating these values not just to you but to all of Chicago. But now, perhaps, a show of good faith to you from us as an earnest of our good intentions?”

 

Charlotte was tempted to stand up and tell Sammartino where he could stick his good intentions but followed Arn’s lead when he simply stared at the other man.  Finally, he nodded slightly, and acceptance of whatever was about to happen. 

 

Sammartino nodded and then snapped his fingers. There was a noticeable delay when nothing happened until a scuffling was heard from one corner of the hall. There was murmuring and shuffling as the crowd parted. A moment later two men in suits appeared dragging a third between them. The third man looked terrible, as though he’d been getting worked over for hours. Both eyes were swollen shut, he was covered in dried blood, and what skin was visible was one giant bruise. 

 

The two men dropped him hard onto the floor in the space between the stage and Charlotte’s table. They then proceeded to kick the man several times, apparently for good measure, though he was obviously past the point of resisting.

 

“Johnny, Chucky, that’s enough,” Sammartino said coolly. Both of the thugs stopped their assault instantly and moved to stand between their victim and the stage. 

 

“Do you recognize this man, Commander?” Sammartino asked.

 

“Does my answer really matter?”  Arn questioned, his voice even and steady.  “You’ve obviously already made up your mind if I do or not.”

 

There was a murmur from the crowd at this but Sammartino seemed pleased. “Of course you don’t, Commander. This man was apprehended in the act of spying on the government of Chicago, telling strange tales about being sent by you. Now, I could hardly credit a report that a man such as yourself would so far forget yourself to spy on a civilian government. No doubt this man represents nothing more than a rogue element in the JTF?” Sammartino asked this with the perfect appearance of solicitude, as though desperate for Arn to reassure him that their friendship remained intact.

 

Arn shrugged, his shoulders somehow giving off an air of indifference with the move.  “Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t. To imply that I sent him in as a spy would mean that there would have to be an _actual_ civilian government in place.  Now correct me if I’m wrong, but I never saw a vote placing your faction in power.  Which further implies that you simply moved into City Hall and _assumed_ control of this so-called government.  If you see him as a spy, there’s not much I can do in that sense.  Do with him as you please.”

 

Mr. Sammartino smiled at this. “An interesting discussion we might have another time, at what point is a government, a government? Surely though, the group controlling the symbols of power, providing protective services, feeding the populace, conducting elections might be considered a government. Whatever the case, I am glad to hear that you agree this man may be punished.”

 

“Commander…please...” the man moaned from the floor.

 

Charlotte looked between the man on the floor and Arn.  She knew the spy, of course she did. He had been around JTF headquarters when she had just gotten activated.  And it didn’t matter how much Arn tried to deny it, everyone in the room knew that the man was JTF. It was written all over their faces.  

 

Arn’s face remained impassive, his decision made.  He would continue to deny knowing this man, even if it meant a terribly painful death.  Charlotte stood, her hand still on her concealed knife, and faster than anyone could blink, she had thrown it, burying it up to its hilt in his chest.

 

The knife itself wasn’t meant for throwing, which meant it was slightly off its mark, but it was close enough to his heart to count as a fatal blow.  The man slumped over, his death rattle echoing pathetically around the silent room mere seconds before the noise set in. 

 

Guards were immediately storming towards Charlotte, their guns pointed in her face.  She held her hands up and immediately took a knee. “Whether he was JTF or not, he had been punished enough.”

 

“Hold,” Mr. Sammartino said, he wasn’t shouting but everyone in the hall who was reaching for a weapon they weren’t supposed to have stopped at once. He regarded Charlotte with interest for a few moments before he slowly raised his hands and began to applaud. The crowd exchanged glances before they joined in. In one of the strangest scenes, any of them had ever seen it suddenly seemed Charlotte was in for great acclaim for murdering one of her comrades.

 

“ _Brava! Brava Ragazza!”_ Mr. Sammartino called before he lowered his hands. The rest of the applause died as quickly as it had sprung to life. “Lieutenant Flair…” he called down “...You impress me indeed young lady. Swift, decisive action, THAT is how we must all deal with those who refuse to come along as we try to fix our city. You have done me a service and I assure that I will never forget those who have obliged me...or disobliged me for that matter.”

 

His eyes locked with Charlotte's for a long hard moment before he let his gaze sweep around the hall. “But you’ve all indulged an old man his tedious sermonizing for far too long. Please, enjoy yourselves tonight. Experience what this fine establishment has to offer. And tomorrow, when our arrangement has ended, I shall look forward to meeting all of you again in the future...whatever the circumstances.”

 

With that, he allowed Carmella to help him off the stage. Leaving polite applause and a  buzz of low talk behind him.

 

He had made it maybe thirty feet away from the stage when a loud boom shook the room.  Sammartino stumbled but was soon being escorted rather quickly from the area by Riott, Logan, and Morgan.  

 

Charlotte stayed down on her knees and did a quick sweep of the area, her eyes landing on a cloud of dust and smoke seeping in from the door at the rear of the room.  A second explosion, quickly followed by a third sounded like they were rigged to the side doors of the hotel. There was a moment of silent confusion before all fucking hell broke loose.  

 

Faction leaders were suddenly being escorted out of the room as waitresses and small-time faction members were making a break for the front door, which was the only one that hadn’t had an explosion near it yet.  

 

“Wait!” Charlotte tried to yell out a warning.  If there had already been three bombs, it was likely a trap intended to funnel everyone towards a larger bomb located at the only viable exit.  But no one was listening, the noise and the chaos too loud for anyone to hear her. 

 

She got up and turned to Arn, about to relay that thought but got a fist connecting with her jaw instead.  Sometime between the first bomb and the third, the Demons and a few of the other lower level faction members decided this would be the perfect time to start a brawl, even as smoke continued to billow in under the doors.  

 

Charlotte stumbled back, trying to stay upright after the attack caught her off guard.  She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, checking for blood. She smirked as the man approached her with a predatory smile unfurling across his face.  

 

Charlotte was immediately in motion, her fist connecting with his jaw.  He did actually stumble back, his hips coming in contact with a table and sending him further off balance.  Charlotte took this opportunity to throw a kick to his stomach, which sent him sprawling over backward and landing on his ass.  

 

She pivoted and quickly checked to make sure that Arn was okay, but the old man seemed to be holding his own, so Charlotte turned to another lackey that was coming for her.  This one was obviously Administration. For starters, he was dressed a little nicer than most of the people here and he had a knife in his hand. He smiled at Charlotte, “the guys will lose their mind when they hear I got to gut _the_ Lieutenant Flair.”

 

Charlotte simply rolled her eyes and waited for the man to attack first, which he did rather unsurprisingly.  He thrust his knife at her midsection, which is exactly what she was waiting for. Grabbing his right forearm with her left hand, she sidestepped him to her left while pulling him forward.  Her right hand slid under his jacket and grabbed the pistol that was poorly concealed in a shoulder holster under his right armpit. She then spun to her right, letting the nameless goon continue past her.  She leveled the .44 Desert Eagle at him and pulled the trigger. She didn’t even flinch when the pistol recoiled or when the goon’s head exploded forward from the bullet hole that was now very prominent in what used to be the back of his head.

 

She turned and fired twice more, her bullets finding marks in the first Demon who had attacked and a Sheriff’s Deputy that was charging her now as well.  She paused, looked at the gun and scoffed. Of course, the mobster wannabe would have a hand cannon that was completely useless in most gunfights. The stopping power was there, but it was often at the cost of accuracy.   

 

A gunshot rang out in the room, one that hadn’t come from Charlotte’s gun and she yelped as pain exploded in her upper arm, burning all the way down to her fingertips.  She pivoted and pulled the trigger on the Eagle twice, quickly dispatching the member of the hotel’s security that had shot her. She hissed as she turned her arm over and looked at the damage.  Luckily for her, the oaf was a terrible shot and had managed to hit her upper left arm. The wound was a through and through, and luckily it didn’t feel like it had broken the bone.  

 

Charlotte coughed.  Either the explosions had caught something on fire, or someone was setting deliberate fires to cause more chaos and confusion.  Most of the room had cleared out, none of the faction leaders wanting to stick around to see exactly which one had betrayed the truce.  Only their lower ranking members were still there fighting amongst themselves even as the room started to fill with thick, black smoke.  

 

Charlotte coughed again, the smoke burning in a way that normal smoke didn’t.  The amount of smoke that was in the room was rather minimal at this point. It was maybe enough to irritate the eyes and make her nose run, but to affect her breathing already?  It didn’t seem likely. Which means that the bomber had put some other chemicals in the bomb that would cause some sort of reaction that would lead to something more.  

 

This meant that the longer they stayed there, the more likely they were to succumb to the effects of the smoke.  She was turning to go get Arn and get the hell out when she was blindsided with a flying tackle from another security guard from the hotel.

 

The momentum from the initial hit had knocked the Desert Eagle out of Charlotte’s hand and skidding a few feet away.  Charlotte looked where it had landed, giving the security guard an opening as he brought his fist down a few times into Charlotte’s face.  She took the first hit and then brought her hands up to protect herself from the second and third.

 

As he would up to throw a fourth, Charlotte lunged upward, her left arm wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer to her.  She brought her right elbow careening into the left side of the guard’s face twice before he pushed her off of him. The two then wrestled for dominance and control of the fight, but the guard was a big guy and outweighed Charlotte by at least a hundred pounds which gave him the advantage, as he pinned her arms above her head.  

 

Charlotte’s eyes darted quickly to see how far away from her the gun was, her gaze quickly shifting to see Arn was also currently wrestling with someone on the ground. 

 

Charlotte growled and turned her attention back to the guard on top of her and shifted her hips so they were lower than the guard’s thighs.  Planting her feet on the ground, Charlotte thrust her hips up. It wasn’t enough to buck the guy off of her, but it was enough for him to loosen his grip on her arms, which is all she needed.  She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his head so it was cradled basically in her right armpit. Then using her hips again and keeping his head controlled, Charlotte managed to flip them over to her left, giving her the advantage and putting him flat on his back.

 

Charlotte didn’t hesitate to bring her elbow down into his face a few more times before she scrambled off of him to grab the gun.  She kicked herself over on to her back just as the guard was lunging for her again, and pulled the trigger. The gun went off, and the bullet hit its mark between the man’s eyes.  

 

She rolled then, the gun up and pointing at the man who had Arn pinned to the ground.  What she saw froze everything in her. The man was leaning over Arn, a sinister smile on his face as he twisted the polymer knife Charlotte had thrown at the JTF spy deeper into Arn’s stomach.  Arn was gritting his teeth as he tried to kick the man from the Administration off of him.  

 

Charlotte steadied her breathing,  adjusted her grip so it was strong but comfortable, lined up the shot and pressed the trigger.  This gunshot seemed louder than all the others, but Charlotte didn’t wait to see if it hit its mark before she was up and moving towards the man who had raised her.  

 

She slid on her knees, coming to rest right near Arn’s head.  She tossed the gun to the side and shoved the body of the Administration goon off of Arn’s torso.  “No, no, no…Arn. Hey, look at me,” she ordered as she pressed her hand against the wound in his stomach.  

 

He grunted and kicked his legs uselessly as he squirmed.  He tried to swat at Charlotte’s hand. “Leave it. You gotta go before whatever the fuck is in this smoke gets you too.”

 

“Stop!” Charlotte yelled.  “I can do this. I can get you out.”

 

Arn shook his head.  “Look around you Slugger, the building is on fire and there are more of them coming.  You have to go. They need you.”

 

“They need you more,” Charlotte grunted as she hooked her arms under his arms and started to pull him towards the door.  She made it a few inches before her left arm gave out and he dropped back to the floor.  

 

“Stop.  Look at me,” Arn’s voice sounded like it was getting further away.  

 

“No,” Charlotte said, the determination strong in her voice.  She moved so she was gripping his left arm with her right. “You keep pressure on that,” she coughed as more smoke poured into the room, her skin burning now from whatever irritant had been added to the bomb.  “You keep pressure on it, and stay awake.”

 

She tightened her grip on his arm and started to pull him to the door.  This time they made it a few feet before Charlotte’s feet slipped on some blood and she fell down.  She took a few seconds to catch her breath and then got back to her feet. This time when she started to pull, it was as if Arn had suddenly gained a hundred pounds.  Charlotte tried everything she could to get him moving again, but her adrenaline must have been wearing off because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to get anywhere.

 

“Charlotte,” Arn coughed.  “Charlotte, sweetheart… stop.  Look at me.” 

 

Charlotte’s eyes darted to his, the tears pouring down her face unbidden now.  He smiled sadly up at her. “It’s time. You need to go. I’ve lost too much blood.  Even if you get me out of here, I won’t make it very far.”

 

“No,” Charlotte whimpered, as she tried to tug him towards the door again, her efforts still unproductive.  

 

“They need someone to lead them, Slugger.  It’s gotta be you, so you need to go. Go now before you run out of time.”

 

“Arn…”

 

“I know.  I know. You’ll be okay.  Now go, before more of them show up and kill you.  Go, your Agents need you… Commander Flair.”

 

Charlotte bit her bottom lip, the indecision obvious on her face.  She looked around the room and realized that there really wasn’t a choice anymore.  There was a large trail of blood behind Arn’s body and more of it was pooling on the ground underneath him.  The smoke was slowly taking over the room, and there were bodies littering the ground everywhere.  

 

The few that were left standing all seemed to turn at that exact moment and look at Charlotte and Arn.  They started running towards the two Agents, a battle cry coming from one of them. The realization settled cold and hard in Charlotte’s stomach, making her feel empty inside. 

 

She was out of time.

 

She scrambled over to the Desert Eagle, grabbed it and returned to Arn’s side.  She pressed the gun into his hand and placed a kiss on his forehead. “Dad,” she started.

 

He reached up and cupped her cheek.  “I know. I love you too. Watching you grow up was the greatest pleasure of my life.  I’m so proud of you. Now go.”

 

Charlotte nodded and sniffled.  “I love you.”

 

“Love you too, kiddo.”  He winked at her and then pushed her towards the door.  

 

Charlotte got up and made her way towards the door, chancing a look back at Arn, who managed to shoot two of the approaching faction members.  Charlotte turned and pushed her way through the door and out into the street, gulping down lung full after lung full of fresh air.  

 

One final gunshot rang out from inside the building, taking what little resolve Charlotte had left with it.  She turned and started to run towards where Headquarters was located, the tears now flowing freely down her face.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats on surviving that chapter!!! It was a beast to write and I'm sure just as difficult to read! I want to take this time to seriously thank you all for the love and support you have shown us so far. Every kudo, every comment, every hit we get makes our day! We honestly have the best readers around!


	16. A Night For a Party - Sasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha gets wind of a major gather of Chicago's power players, how can she take advantage?

Sasha Banks had collected two new Division watches in the last few days, yet she wasn’t able to relish her victories. Something was up, she sensed it and she meant to find out what.

 

It wasn’t that she had any definite information to act on, it was more an instinct. Sasha was a very empirical person at her core but she’d learned that most other people weren’t. They didn’t behave as logically as she did, and as such, she’d needed to develop an instinct for how they thought. This was what told her there was something big going down. Someone of a more poetic bent might have said that the ‘streets were buzzing’. The usual patterns of behavior had changed suddenly. 

 

Most of downtown Chicago existed in an almost constant state of low-level warfare these days. Various groups sparred over territory, supplies, or sometimes just to fight. The group controlling the areas around City Hall tended to be better at this than the roving bands of scavengers simply due to their higher degree of organization and better equipment. Yet they had suddenly stopped.

 

It was almost as though some kind of improbable truce had been struck. And if it had, the implications of such a development were troubling, to say the least.

 

Sasha’s usual hunting grounds lay right in downtown Chicago, though there were no real limits as she would follow her quarry wherever she had to. Nonetheless, she’d come to understand a great deal about the politics of the streets and their usual operation. 

 

Downtown Chicago was largely in the grip of two groups. The first was the so-called ‘Administration’. This was the remnants of the former ‘Chicago outfit’ of the American mafia. Of course, the mob had been hit as hard as anyone by the Green Poison, but the nature of their business had given them a headstart when it came to acclimating to the post-poison world. Sasha wasn't exactly sure as to the group's organizational structure, nor was she particularly interested. She was more intrigued by the fact that whoever was charting strategy for the administration was obviously very shrewd. 

 

The authority coming from City Hall was as violent as any other group in post-crisis Chicago, but there was a nuance to it. The administration didn’t just offer the sword, but bread and circuses as well. The people living in their territory lived under constant threat but they also received handouts of food and other supplies. Sasha had even heard rumors of a working moving theater and of course, the only radio station on the air was little more than a running propaganda service for the administration. 

 

What was more, they were also trying to ape the functions of a civil government. They had appointed their own ‘Mayor’ and had several police cruisers driving around their territory. All in all, they were clearly trying to establish themselves in the minds of Chicagoans as the ‘government’ of the city. 

 

The administration’s primary ‘rival’ for control of downtown wasn’t really a ‘group’ at all in the traditional sense. The Demons, as they called themselves, were more a confederation of warring tribes than anything else. Sasha had heard rumors that there was actually a ‘leader’ of the factions but she’d never seen any real evidence of control from above. The demons spent as much time fighting each other as anyone else.

 

The two groups had clashed often in the past, but not now. 

 

Sasha needed info, which was why she was lurking in the shadows of the underground parking garage once again. As before, she heard Shad and JTG as they arrived.

 

“Would you move yo ass mutha fucka!” Shad urged in a low but urgent voice.

 

“Damn dude! What’s yo hurry? We here ain't we?” JTG whined back. 

 

“Yo dumbass wanna piss off the crazy lady?” 

 

Sasha smirked at this before she spoke, her voice echoing around the space.

 

“I need info,” she said simply. The two men fell silent at this, no doubt looking around to try and discover where Sasha was hiding.

 

“Yo, what you need crazy lady?” Shad asked.

 

“The Administration and the Demons aren’t fighting anymore, why?” Sasha asked. To her surprise, she didn’t have to wait for an answer.

 

“Yo, them dudes in City Hall put the word out on the streets. Anyone messes with the demons get’s FUCKED up. I heard them demons doing the same thang,” JTG answered.

 

Sasha narrowed her eyes at this response but kept her voice neutral as she repeated her question. “Why?”

 

“Yooooo that’s some classified information crazy lady, gonna cost you extra,” Shad said before JTG could answer. Sasha smirked again at this. She’d expected the response and had come prepared, but she still didn’t answer for a long time. She wanted to let the tension build, give the two men a chance to wonder if they’d miscalculated.

 

When she judged she’d waited long enough, she spoke. “It will be worth your time if you don’t waste mine.” She imagined she could hear the two swallowing heavily at this. 

 

“We gonna need like a...downpayment or some shit,” Shad finally answered. Sasha was impressed by his nerve. In response, she hit a button on the keyfob she was holding. Two levels below she knew that a trunk would be opening on one of the parked cars near the entrance.

 

“You get the rest if I like what I hear,” she called. There was a pause as she heard a scurrying sounds that told her the men had hurried over to the car to look inside. Sasha had stored several bottles of premium liquor there in addition to a large bag of cash. 

 

“We got a deal, crazy lady!” JTG called happily. Sasha didn’t answer, she just waited.

 

“There’s some kind of big fancy party going down at the Twisted Dream, that lux ass hotel. No one is supposed to fight until after it goes down,” Shad explained. 

 

Sasha leaned back against the wall and thought hard about this. She knew about the Velveteen Bliss, everyone who lived in downtown did. Formerly known as the Chicago Hotel, it was now a pleasure house catering to any vice someone might have. Sasha had never been inside but she knew that the booze flowed freely, drugs were plentiful, and working girls and boys were happy to make your evening. All for the right, exorbitant, price. 

 

The place was run by a pair of ‘entrepreneurs’ who went by the names Velveteen Dream and Alexa Bliss. Sasha doubted these were their actual names as no one seemed to know anything about them before they managed to take over the hotel. Perhaps more surprisingly, they’d held onto it despite being a very inviting target. Some of this was their large security force, but it wasn’t all of it. Guards or not, had the Administration, Demons, or another group really set their mind to it they could have taken over. 

 

No, the Twisted Dream’s defense lay in its utility. It was a natural place for communication ‘across the lines’ between groups that might be at war elsewhere. Or maybe it was just a case of not shitting where you ate. Everyone wanted a place to go drink and fuck and no one wanted to be the one that blew it for everyone else. 

 

“When is the party?” Sasha asked.

 

“We don’t know?” Shad answered. Sasha sighed.

 

“When was everyone told they had to stop fighting until?” Sasha asked.

 

“Tomorrow,” JTG answered. 

 

Sasha simply left at that, making sure to use a second key fob to open another trunk. She had work to do if she was going to be in position in time. 

 

She made a stop at her nearest safehouse where she collected some equipment before moving as quickly as she could toward the Velveteen Bliss. This was the heart of administration territory so she had to move very cautiously. Whenever she could she moved through the sewers, which got her within a few blocks of her target. It was this last leg that took the longest as she had to evade several patrols. She could have moved faster if she’d simply taken them out, but that would undoubtedly raise an alarm.

 

Despite this added difficult, Sasha did eventually reach her target. One of the many large buildings that lined the street that Velveteen Bliss stood on. Ideally, she would have set up shop in the building opposite the hotel. But she knew that this one would be crawling with security the night of the gathering, which would immeasurably complicate her job. So Sasha ended up in an office high rise three buildings down and diagonal to the front of the hotel. 

 

If this gathering was going to be as big as Sasha suspected then she had to be here. She thought almost a certainty that one or more of her targets would show. Even if they didn’t, taking down an Administration VIP or a Demon leader wouldn’t be a bad consolation prize. She doubted she’d be able to get more than one, MAYBE two if she got lucky. But given her preferred prey, that was more than enough.

 

When she had selected her shooting position, Sasha began her preparations. First, she made sure to secure herself several exit routes. She was on the 4th story so this was tricky but in the end, she had the stairs, a rope in the elevator shaft, the fire escape, and then another rope hanging from a window on the opposite side of the building. She then set up several backup shooting positions and finally prepared several booby traps. 

 

She didn’t set these yet though, she thought it was possible that some guards might sweep through the building between now and the party and she didn’t want to reveal herself. To this end, she located the freight elevator and then set up a sleeping roll on top of the car itself. She’d lay low there until the next day, then it would be time to work.

 

Sasha had long since developed the ability to snatch sleep whenever and wherever she had time. The nature of her job as a sniper hadn’t always allowed her the luxury of eight uninterrupted hours in a comfortable bed. Still, it was only six in the evening on the day before and even she couldn’t sleep for the next 24 hours. Fortunately, she’d brought herself a book which she settled down with on top of the elevator. 

 

“What is Life?” by Erwin Schrodinger lasted Sasha until she fell asleep late that evening. The next day, she stayed put and read on and off. Though she had to take a break when her guess was confirmed and she heard several people moving around below her in the maintenance room that the elevator opened onto. But they were bored guards and didn’t stay long. Sasha waited twenty minutes after they’d left and then cautiously dropped down into the elevator.

 

She was on guard against the possibility of booby traps, or worse, guards. She found no traps, but she did find a guard. 

 

She swore silently to herself as she peered up over a desk, two floors above her shooting position. A young man, a kid really, was sitting in the far corner of what had clearly once been an open floor plan office. Sasha saw that he had both food and drink with him, so he was obviously planning on being here for a while. Worse, Sasha had heard him check in with someone else over his radio more than once. This meant she couldn’t simply kill him, his absence would be noted.

 

Sasha debated her options. She could grab the kid, restrain him, and then force him to keep checking in. But that would involve a great deal of work on her part and would probably eventually fail no matter what. She could also try to relocate but she knew that finding the freedom and time to set up a new shooting position would be almost impossible this close to the party. Escaping under the cover of night would be tricky enough. 

 

In the end, there was nothing for it. Sasha had to leave him where he was. She would, in all likelihood, be able to make her shot and escape from her position two floors down before he was even aware she was there. But there was also always the chance that he might be relieved at some point, and introducing another hostile wandering the building would dramatically complicate her situation. 

 

Should she simply leave? Wait until dark and slip away, hoping for another opportunity to present itself. It was tempting, but she decided that these circumstances were too advantageous to let pass. She’d have to take the risk. What was more, she adjusted her bobby traps away from the stairs. Now they would protect her shooting positions but would allow free movement from the ground to the kid’s observation post. 

 

It was like being asked to lay down beside a sleeping tiger while being asked to disarm a bomb. You wanted to get out of the situation quickly but knew that if you hurry you risked disaster. Ninety-nine percent of humanity wouldn’t have been able to handle the pressure, they would have decamped and tried again another time. Not Sasha Banks.

 

She was smirking.

 

She was undisturbed for the rest of the day as she observed the comings and goings from the Velveteen Bliss. There definitely seemed to be a lot of guards, though Sasha didn’t know what was normal for the place. But as the afternoon dragged on she saw more and more armed men congregating to the point where she was certain this wasn’t normal. This guess was confirmed at around 5:30 PM. 

 

Sasha’s attention was drawn as a dump truck turned onto the street five or six blocks down. Its engine was roaring as it went, which wasn’t surprising as it couldn’t have been the one originally installed in the truck. The behemoth had been armored for war, a huge scoop like that of a bulldozer had been attached to the front and the entire body was layered in steel. Larger plates of this had been attached over the bed of the hopper until the vehicle resembled an enormous armored car. 

 

The vehicle was covered in spikes and this made pretty clear that its owner was probably a demon. And when Sasha, watching through her scope, saw the man who got out of the driver's side she couldn’t think of a better term for him. He was enormous, Sasha guessed that the tip of his shaved head was over seven feet from the ground. He had arms as thick as ships cables and was wearing an expression of absolute malevolence. 

 

She debated, but not long. She had no idea who the man was, for all she knew he was just a bodyguard for the other demon’s exiting the truck. There were a very large stocky woman and a man who, while well built, seemed tiny compared to his companions. Sasha didn’t get a good look at him, only seeing short dark hair. None of these were worth using her one bullet on.

 

It seemed the dump truck doubled as an APC however as a cloud of armed men and women began to appear from the rear. They were obviously guards and Sasha watched with interest as they were made to wait outside the entrance while the first three went inside. It seemed only the Bliss’ security people would be at the party itself. When the last guards had left, the dump truck roared off to the hotels’ parking lot, located next to the building itself.

 

The next arrivals came in three vehicles, all humvees painted in an urban camo pattern. All three had top mounted .50 cals manned by men and women dressed in full combat rig. The whole cortege screamed ‘military’ which surprised Sasha. She would have assumed that if the military were here at all it would be to scourge the place clean. Instead, she watched as four people, three men, and a woman, got out of the vehicles. All were dressed in uniform and Sasha’s quick check revealed the man leading them was a Lt. Colonel. 

 

Sasha felt her trigger finger twitch. If these soldiers were arm in arm with criminals then she had no doubt they deserved a bullet. But not HER bullet on this night. So she kept waiting.

 

After the humvees had left, three more vehicles arrived. The one in the center was a large limousine. Though it didn’t look special, Sasha guessed that it was heavily armored from the way it rode so low on its axles. In front of and behind the limo were two technicals. This was the term for a civilian vehicle modified to carry a heavy weapon. This case they were two full-sized pickups with a pair of light machine guns mounted over the cab. Guards swarmed out of these forming a cordon around the limo’s doors. A moment later, these opened.

 

The first to exit was a woman was a diminutive blonde woman with her hair, strangely, in pigtails. Next came a taller woman with dark hair, a dark expression, and some kind of war paint on her face. These moved quickly to take up flanking positions, making Sasha think they were bodyguards. The third person out was another shorter woman with long black hair and one side of her scalp shaved. She was really committing to the goth thing with dark eyeliner and lipstick. She scanned the area around the entrance, her eyes even passing over where Sasha waited, before beckoning to someone inside the limo.

 

Out stepped a young woman with dark hair in a high ponytail. Sasha was far from a fashionista but even she was offended by the amount of leopard print she saw on the woman. She bounced impatiently, looking exactly like an impatient child. A moment later a man stepped out, he wasn’t much taller than the woman and had a wiry build. He was dressed almost as though someone had asked him to look as much like the cliche of a mobster as possible. Leather jacket, shirt with the top three buttons undone, and a large gold chain.

 

These two waited for a moment as the dark-haired bodyguard reached into the limo and helped an elderly man slowly out from inside. Sasha’s eyes narrowed, she knew who this was. Everyone did. Mr. Sammartino himself had made the trip tonight. Sasha’s finger slowly applied pressure to her trigger, putting this bastard down would be an evening's good work. But then something distracted her. This was unusual, Sasha as a sniper had the ability to hyperfocus, but what she saw was very nearly the only thing that could have broken her focus. 

 

The blonde with pigtails turned to face away from Sasha and for a moment, Sasha caught a flash of dull orange. Eyes widening, Sasha refocused on her and for a fleeting moment, she saw it. The shoulder mounted ISAC device of a division agent. More importantly, an ISAC device whose light was out, leaving it a dull orange where it should be glowing. 

 

“Son of a bitch!” Sasha muttered as she began to apply pressure to her trigger only to swear inwardly. The woman in leopard print had stepped between her and the blonde. Sasha thought about trying to shoot her and then the blonde but knew that if her target was a division agent she wouldn’t get the chance. She also had to consider the possibility that the goth and the one with war paint were also agents.

 

“Fuck!” she whispered as the group vanished into the hotel. Sasha stewed angrily for a few moments before deciding that she would wait as long as she could. The Sammartino’s vehicles had joined the others in the parking lot, which made Sasha think the group would exit the way they’d come in. 

 

And Sasha would be waiting for them. 

 

She was prepared to look at nothing more interesting than the guards milling around the entrance for that time. But something did happen to break up the monotony. About twenty minutes after the Sammartino motorcade cleared out, another group arrived. 

 

The pair of dark SUV’s that rolled up made Sasha think of some famous person arriving at a red carpet premiere. Back when such things still happened anyway. So she was slightly surprised when the first people out wore a mixture of various kinds of uniforms. She saw national guard, CPD, and even an EMT. This group stood out among the other guard types milling around outside and Sasha instantly noted a hostility between them and the other groups.

 

“Well shit,” she murmured as she watched an older but still burly man get out of the lead vehicle. Sasha knew who this was, every Division agent in Chicago would. This was Arn Anderson, the area commander for the Division. That must make this last group the representatives from the JTF itself.

 

What the hell were they doing here?

 

Sasha watched with interest as a striking tall blonde woman dropped down the pavement next to Anderson. Sasha could see an active ISAC node on her shoulder, something that told her that the woman wasn’t one of her targets. She was an agent that was still playing by the rules it seemed, Sasha hadn’t encountered many. 

 

Something about the blonde drew Sasha’s attention. Adjusting her scope she peered at the other woman. The blonde was scanning the area with alert eyes that, for a moment, gave Sasha the irrational fear that she might somehow be detected. This wasn’t like when the goth woman had looked, the blonde was orders of magnitude more dangerous. 

 

Sasha continued to watch as the agent exchanged a few words with a CPD officer that might have been her sister. Another tall blonde. Before she and Anderson vanished into the hotel. 

 

Sasha thought about what she’d just seen for a few moments. She’d kept her distance from the JTF since she’d received her activation orders. Not only did she simply dislike authority in general, but she also had looked on in disgust as the organization had lost most of the city. And now here they were...at a party for the real lords of the city.

 

Sasha’s lip curled slightly as she refocused on the entryway, intending to wait as long as necessary to get her shot.

 

And she was, more than two hours later she was still studying the entrance to the hotel through her scope. She was not going to miss her chance to take down one of those agents. Not unless something extraordinary happened to intervene.

 

Just as she thought this, there was an explosion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1,438 hits at press time...wow you guys! We never thought we'd get this kind of response! Thank you so much and keep the hits coming because when we hit 2k...we might have something special planned for you!
> 
> What did everyone think of this chapter? Sasha's plans got foiled, but by whom?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	17. A Perfect Night for Fireworks - Becky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gala from Becky's perspective. It's time to do a party, Straight Fire style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are seriously amazing. All of the hits, kudos and comments are amazing. I know it's something that AP and I are blown away by every week. We got extremely lucky with our fans, you all are seriously the best! Thank you so much for your continued support!
> 
> _______________

“Are ya sure this is the right place?”  Becky narrowed her eyes at the building in front of her.  This place was something of a legend among the people of downtown Chicago since the Green Poison outbreak.  It had a reputation of being a place that fulfilled your every requirement and desire. But a place to hold a meeting of the faction leaders… maybe not so much.

 

_ “Have I ever steered you wrong?” _   The thick New Zealand accent crackled over the comms that Becky had converted to operate on a secure frequency between them.  If a person didn’t have the right equipment, this particular frequency would sound like a bunch of static.  

 

“Yeah, several times come right to mind.  And a few of those times, I was stuck shootin’ my way out, even after ya promised me that I would be on me own,” Becky grumbled as she continued to watch the building in front of her through her binoculars.  

 

She had set herself up a block away to not draw attention to what she was doing.  The building hadn’t been vacant per se, but she had quickly dispatched the Demons that had been lurking around inside.  Now she was sitting on a chair and looking out a window.  

 

_ “You loved it.  Any reason for you to use your toys.” _

 

Becky rolled her eyes at the scavenger, even though she couldn’t see it.   “Listen here ya fucking Kiwi, you’d better not be lyin’ ta me about this. This could be big-time fer me and I could only get one shot at this.  I find out yer yankin’ my chain--”

 

_ “I’m not.  Come on now!  We’ve done this enough times for you to know that if I really wanted to sell the location of Straight Fire, I would’ve done it already.” _

 

Becky sighed and dropped the binoculars from her eyes.  “Too true, Storm. Too true. Listen though… can ya get me what I asked for?”

 

A scoff echoed through the comms.   _ “I already have most of it.  Give me another day to gather up the rest.  Will that give you enough time to put together whatever it is that you’re planning?” _

 

“Yeah, that should give me a full day to build my little presents,” Becky agreed after doing some quick calculations in her head. 

 

_ “Hmmm… you work fast, don’t you?  Usual drop off location?” _

 

“Yeah.  Your payment will be waitin’ for ya there too.”

 

“ _ You know the way to a girl’s heart.  Pleasure doing business with you, as always.” _

 

Becky smiled to herself as the blonde clicked off the frequency.  How she had managed to land Toni Storm as an informant and scavenger, she still wasn’t sure but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.  The woman was talented and discreet. Two things that Becky required, especially for the mission she was about to attempt. Besides having a discreet informant worked beautifully with how obnoxious she was.  Even if Straight Fire got caught, her informants would all be safe at the end of the day, and that was something Becky took very seriously.  

 

Her smile grew to a grin as she stood and moved towards the door after putting on her pack and picking up her rifle.  In a few days, all the big names of the factions would be meeting at the hotel a block away. It would be the perfect opportunity for her to try and take them all out at once.  

 

The only issue was that the security would be tight leading up to and even after the event.  Which meant that she would have to get creative with how she approached the building. She would have to be fast, efficient, and invisible, so she needed something that could get her in and out quickly.  

 

Or did she…?

 

Becky chuckled to herself as an idea formed, one that would fit the Straight Fire brand almost perfectly.  After all, she had never been one to do things in secret, so why should she start now. What she would need for _ this _ plan shouldn’t be too hard to get ahold of… a box truck, some alcohol, and a white shirt.

 

She took off down the street with a new upbeat step to her stride.  This was turning out to be a decent day and had the potential of being a great week if she could pull this off.  

 

___________________

 

Three days later, Becky was sitting behind the wheel of a delivery truck as she ambled up to the side door of the building.  It was mid-morning, but she didn’t want to be caught too close to the actual party time, so she had erred on the side of caution and decided to get to work almost eight hours before the first guest was set to arrive.  She stopped it right in front of a guy dressed in a suit but was holding a rather large rifle. She rolled down the window and leaned out, her hand reaching up to straighten the black-tie she was wearing. “Hey! Ya know where they wanted this?”

 

The security guard glared up at her as he approached.  “What is  _ this _ exactly?”

 

Becky flashed him her brightest smile.  “Alcohol mate. Bliss and Dream hired out me bar to deliver some of my alcohol fer the party later tonight.  I’m also kind of hopin’ they decide that they could use another bartender, cause I could use the money,” she winked at the guy who completely ignored her.  

 

“Open the back.”

 

“Right you are, lad,” Becky answered without hesitating as she hopped out of the cab of the truck, straightening her white shirt once she landed.  “Need to see my manifest too?”

 

The security guard shook his head as he was joined by two more similarly built men.  “Wow, you gents do not mess around, do ya? Why all the big-time security? Are people already startin’ to show up?”   
  


The first guard looked at her through his sunglasses while the two new guys opened the back of her truck.  “You talk too much, do you know that?”

 

Becky smirked.  “Been told that a time or two, yeah.  I mean, I am Irish. Why settle fer one word when seven will do, ya know?”

 

The guard just glared at her, the silent command to be quiet was obvious.  Becky simply snaps her fingers, points a few finger guns at him and then takes a step back.  The first guard then turned his attention to the truck where his buddies were opening up a few of the crates.

 

Becky held her breath and tried to look as relaxed as possible.  If they looked closely at the crates, they would notice that there were false bottoms built into them, that the alcohol stacked on top of the explosives weren’t quite as tall as the crates themselves were.  

 

After a few minutes of the guards opening up the crates, they were tossing the lids back into the truck.  The first guard turned back to Becky and beckoned her closer. Becky stepped towards him, her hand unconsciously tightening into a fist.  “Yes?”

 

The guard pointed behind her.  “Take your truck around back to the loading dock.  The guys back there will wave you in. Unload your stuff and then leave.  Don’t take too long, in and out. I mean it.”

 

Becky smiles as she salutes him.  “In and out. You got it, boss.”

 

She climbs back into the cab of her truck and waits for the guards to hit the back of her truck to let her know that the door was closed and she was good to go.  The trip to the loading dock was quick and it gave Becky a better understanding of the actual layout of the building. She pulled the truck to a stop after backing it up to the docking platform and hopped out.  

 

The next part of her plan would take a little bit of time, which meant that she would have to execute this part almost flawlessly.  She took a deep breath and tightened the ponytail she had pulled her hair back into before hopping down with her clipboard in hand.  

 

“Hey lads!  I was sent back here to drop this booze off fer the big party later!  Where do ya want me to unload it?” she hollered as she made her way up the steps leading to the platform.

 

The two guards who were standing there looked from her to the truck, and back at her.  “What kind of booze?” one of them asked.

 

Becky shrugged.  “Mostly beer and whiskey.  I mean, ya call up an Irish pub for their inventory, yer goin’ get Irish alcohol.  I ain’t in charge here, so if ya want ta help yerselves ta whatever’s in there, I won’t tell a soul,” she emphasized that last part by miming zipping her lip and tossing away the key.  

 

The two guards looked at each other and then back to Becky.  “Go ahead and leave it here. We’ll take it inside once its all offloaded.”

 

Becky nods sagely.  “Right ya are, lad.”

 

She opens up the back of the truck and looks around for a dolley.  Between the three of them, they got the truck offloaded in a few minutes and Becky is closing the hatch to the truck sooner than she thought she would be.  

 

_ Good thing I prepared fer this, _ she thought to herself as her hand moved into her pocket.  “Can I get a signature here gentlemen? My boss won’t like it if I come back without some sort of verification that I dropped this stuff off.”

 

One of the guards stepped forward and signed the paperwork as Becky discreetly pushed a button on the remote detonator in her pocket.  A series of small explosions went off near the front of the building, and Becky forced herself to duck with the two guards. The explosions weren’t loud and wouldn’t be heard more than a few blocks away, but they shook the ground that they were all standing on.  Suddenly black smoke was billowing towards the building from further down the block.

 

“What the fuck was that?” one of the guards asked as he looked around for enemy combatants, which was obvious by how he gripped his rifle.  

 

“How should I know?  Are ya under attack, because this is the last place I want ta be if that’s the case!” Becky stayed in a ducked position as she waddled back towards her truck.  

 

The two guards continued to scan the area, their anxiety increasing with each passing second.  Becky poked her head out from inside the truck. “Look, lads, if ya want to go check it out, I’ll make sure the stuff gets inside and then I’ll just be on me way.”

 

When they still looked a little uncertain, Becky inwardly rolled her eyes.  “Seriously, I’d rather ya go make sure we ain’t about ta get ambushed. I’ll move everything inside.  Just go!”

 

They seemed to finally decided to move and took off down the alley, letting Becky take her first deep breath since she started this charade.  “About time,” she grumbled as she removed the five bags she had stored in the bottom of the crates and tossed them into a closet right inside the door. She moved the alcohol back into the truck, quickly closed it up and drove it a block away.

 

Making sure to hit the second detonator that would deploy even more smoke into the area, Becky ran back to the loading dock.  She had only been gone for about three minutes, but that was still three minutes too long with her presents sitting in an unsecured closet.  She took a deep breath, made sure her outfit and hair were squared away before she opened the door and stepped inside.  

 

She quickly grabbed the bags from their hiding spot and tossed them on a discarded food cart.  Now all she had to do was act like she was called in to work for the party, and she could get this done rather quickly.  Turning towards the back door of the banquet hall, Becky couldn’t help the smile that had started to spread across her face.  

 

If she was being honest with herself, she was more than a little excited to see this particular mixture in action.  If she managed to get all of the faction leaders in one go as well, well that was a plus. But this particular blend of chemicals should not only cause an explosion and resulting fire, but she was also pretty sure that she had created homemade CS gas…or at least a variation of it.  Which would be perfect in causing panic and a mad rush for the front doors where the actual lethal device would be waiting.  

 

She made quick work of the smaller, diversionary devices, one near each of the exit doors to the banquet hall, and then made her way towards the front door.  For the event that was going to be taking place later on that night, she hadn’t run into any security guards. But then that might be because a lot of her work had been going on in service ways and hallways.  As long as she didn’t stay in one place for too long, she should be able to do this undetected.  

 

The smaller explosives were easy enough to hide in planters and under decorative side tables.  But now, standing in front of the front door to the banquet hall, Becky realized that this one was going to be a little more difficult.  For starters, there wasn’t an ideal spot for her to hide this particular device. It was larger and bulkier than the other three and would require a bigger hiding spot.  

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

The barked question tore Becky from her musings.  She turned and looked at the two security guards who were approaching her.  They were decent sized men who looked like they spent way too much time in the gym working on their upper body and ignoring leg day.  Becky put on her best flirtatious smile as they came to stop right in front of her.

 

“Just admirin’ the handiwork on this door.  What is it? Oak? Mahogany?”

 

The security guards simply glared at her.  “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

 

Becky’s smile grew.  “I’m workin’ the party tonight, got pulled in to help wait tables and I was told to show up a little early to help move some of the stuff into the banquet hall.”

 

The guard on the left held up his finger and reached for his radio.  Becky cursed under her breath. She was hoping she could do this without killing anyone, but it seemed like that might no longer be an option.  “Come on, sir. Do we really have to involve Miss Bliss or The Dream? They’re already mad at me because my boss didn’t send them the whiskey they asked for.  Said that he gave them the watered-down type, and to make sure he didn’t do it again, I’d be workin’ fer free.”

 

The guard on the right moved his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose.  “Who said that?”

 

“Miss Bliss,” Becky answered without hesitation, hoping that she had gotten the proper read on the owners of this establishment.  Velveteen Dream looked to be the mouthpiece, the showman if you will. While Alexa Bliss had the look of someone always willing to fight… and not in a fair way.  

 

The guards seemed to be thinking about it, so Becky pushed her luck just a little bit further.  “Please, I need this chance to get on their good side so I can get a permanent job down here. I’m hopin’ one day to be one of their performers so I can bring home a decent amount of food fer once.” 

 

She took a step closer to them, her hands coming up in a pleading motion.  “Just don’t call them down here. You do that, and I’ll be fired fer sure.”

 

The guard on the right looked from her to her bag.  “What’s in there?”

 

Becky took two big steps back towards the bag and opened it up, revealing a bunch of tablecloths.  She pulled one out to show him. “Don’t know why the cleaners put them in this bag, but I’m supposed ta be takin’ them in to start settin’ up the tables.”

 

They shared one last look and then pointed to the banquet hall.  “Get back to work, and don’t let us catch you out here again.”

 

Becky nodded emphatically as she shoved the tablecloth back in the bag.  “Right you are sir, absolutely. I’m just going to go…” she snapped her fingers and pointed finger guns at the door.  

 

“Right…” she sighed as she pushed the door open.  The only issue with this change in plan was that there might be more security personnel inside the actual banquet room.  She was able to breathe a sigh of relief once the door shut behind her because the only people running around inside were people dressed exactly like her in a white button-down, black slacks, and a black-tie.  

 

Keeping her head down, Becky walked right through the banquet hall and right out the back and towards the kitchen.   Having to use the tablecloths as a cover had given her an idea as to how to stash the larger explosive near the front door.  Once inside the kitchen, she found a room service cart and a small tray. She also grabbed a few champagne flutes that were stacked nearby.  

 

She moved quickly and found a side hallway where it seemed like she could have a few moments to herself.  She easily removed the explosive from the bag and placed it on the bottom shelf of the cart before arming it and double-checking the remote detonator.  She then tossed a table cloth over the service cart before she rearranged the tray and flutes on top.  

 

The move from the side hallway to the front door was uneventful as Becky positioned it at the front of the banquet hall.  While the smaller devices contained homemade CS gas, the larger explosive was equipped with three separate explosives. The first would release shrapnel consisting of nails, nuts, and bolts.  The second would act like a flame thrower, launching a stream of fire that consisted of a chemical designed to stick to the person it hit. And the third was a deadly gas. This particular set up had been rather bulky and difficult to transport but would be the most effective in the end.

 

As Becky ducked out the front door of the old hotel and made her way to her truck, she thanked whatever creator was listening that she had so easily picked up the family business and was able to adapt it to her own uses.  Her brothers may understand chemistry as it comes to pharmaceuticals, but that aspect of it had never stuck for her. No, she had always been more interested in making the chemicals go boom, which had gotten her into more trouble than she cared to admit.  It even landed her in juvie a few times.

 

Finding her truck, and the alcohol in it, in one piece was the icing on the cake of what was turning out to be a successful mission.  Becky chuckled to herself as she hopped in the cab, fired up the engine and scrolled through her Mp3 player until she found the “Signed and Sealed in Blood” album by the Dropkick Murphy’s.  She put it on shuffle and cranked the volume as she drove away. Now all she had to do was get into position a few blocks away and wait until the perfect time to set off the devices.

 

___________________

  
  


Lacey Evans was never one to complain.  Her entire career with the Chicago Police Department had been built on her ability to not only follow orders but also adapt those orders to benefit her in every way possible.  This time though? Her orders sucked. Being told to wait outside while Anderson and Flair went into Velveteen Bliss without the rest of the JTF members they had brought… it didn’t sit right with her. 

 

She sighed as she kicked at some rocks from where she had been leaning up against the rear bumper of the car they had driven in.  They had only been there for a little over an hour and she was already bored out of her mind. She had been ecstatic when Anderson had picked her for this mission.  It meant that he noticed her and saw that she was doing good, hard work. Plus it would get her closer to Agent Flair, who was someone that Lacey was hoping to model her future career path after.  

 

Now though...now she wished she had been assigned to  _ literally _ any other mission.  One where she could put her skills to good use.  She felt the need to prove herself as often as possible because it seemed that the longer this quarantine ran on, the more they were relying on the Division Agents to clean up the mess.  And that was something that didn’t sit well with Lacey. The JTF was full of willing and capable people who could do just as well as the Agents could if given the chance.  

 

But it seemed like Anderson was more than okay with using the JTF as security and smaller patrol units, often going out into safer areas and handing out food and supplies to civilians.  Which was important too. But it just felt like they were wasting so many resources and assets on pointless and rather safe missions.

 

“Hey.  Go take a walk, you dummy.  You’re depressing the rest of us.”

 

Lacey looked up, shooting a glare and a middle finger at her partner Zack Ryder.  They had been partners on the force together and when the call came out for first responders to join the JTF, they had been some of the first to sign up.  Especially once CPD headquarters was overrun and there wasn’t much left for them to police in the traditional sense.  

 

“Sorry we can’t all be okay with sitting around like you can,” she bit back.

 

Ryder shrugged.  “It’s why we work so well as a team.  You get all anxious, and I mellow you out.  Plus you’re way too serious all the time, and me?  Well, I bring the comic relief.”

 

Lacey rolled her eyes.  “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Don’t need to think about it, if I already know it.  Now seriously, go take a hike.”

 

“Fine,” Evans sighed as she pushed off the back of the car, her arms uncrossing and adjusting the holster on her hip.  Once they had been told they had to wait outside, she had put her gun back on just in case something went down. “Try not to get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”

 

Ryder simply waved as he turned back to the other members of the JTF that had come with them, launching back into the story he had been telling.

 

Lacey sighed again as she started to walk the perimeter of the building.  The security guards had explained that it wouldn’t be necessary since the truce was in place until the next morning.  But when she had asked if she was allowed to walk the perimeter, they hadn’t seen a problem with it. Her eyes kept up a constant scanning of the neighboring buildings, rooftops, and windows.  She didn’t want to get caught off guard by a sniper in case one was out there. 

 

As she approached the front door of the building, a security guard was exiting.  She nodded at him in a semi-friendly way to acknowledge his presence. He returned the nod and moved past her, the door closing slowly behind him.  Lacey turned her head to check out the rifle he had slung across his back when a dull blinking green light caught her attention right inside the front door.  She shot a quick look over her shoulder to make sure that the guard wasn’t watching and slipped inside.

 

Right next to the front door was a food service cart covered with a white tablecloth.  On top of the cart was a small tray that had a various assortment of champagne flutes, ranging from full to empty on it.  She quickly removed the tray and placed it on the ground next to the cart. 

 

She took a deep breath and steadied herself.  Something about this set up seemed off to her, and her gut was telling her that something was definitely wrong.  And if there was one thing that Lacey always relied on, it was her instincts.  

 

Carefully removing the tablecloth, she gasped at the rather large, and rather obvious explosive device sitting before her.  It wasn’t sophisticated by any means, but it would get the job done… that much was undeniable. She did a quick visual sweep of the device and determined that it was set up on a remote detonator.  It had been sheer, dumb luck that she had seen the green activation light reflecting off the side of the cart as she passed.

 

“Fuck me,” she hissed out as she studied the remote detonator.  She had been in the process of cross-training with the EOD unit on the department before the city went to hell.  And she highly doubted that any of the goons that Sammartino had hired would know how to go about disarming this thing.  They looked like they barely knew how to get dressed in the morning.  

 

She eased the cart away from the wall to allow herself better access and then took a deep, calming breath before slowly exhaling.  “You got this, Evans. No big deal, just a little bomb that could kill everyone in here if you fuck this up,” she mumbled under her breath as she reached forward and slowly started to take apart the detonator.

 

The good news about this device was that it didn’t appear to have any tamper-resistant devices in place.  It looked like whoever created it just slapped the detonator on it and expected everyone to leave it alone.  Kind of a risky move since she was here trying to disarm it now, but Lacey did have to give credit to whoever built it for the outright brazenness of the move.  

 

Several tense minutes passed where Lacey tried to remain calm.  This was a tricky set up since it was on a remote detonator. That meant that it could blow up at any given second.  Plus if one of Sammartino’s men walked by, it would probably look like she was assembling the device instead of trying to disarm it.  And that would probably lead to a world of hurt for her.   

 

She exhaled a shaky breath and tried to calm the nerves that were currently at war inside of her.  She knew she had to be quick, but careful, expedient but also efficient. It was a fine line for her to walk in this stressful situation, but she had to stay focused on what she was doing.  

 

Finally, after what felt like hours, Lacey clipped the last wire and pulled the detonator and detcord out of the device.  She took the first deep breath in what felt like way too long as she stood from her kneeling position. Now, she had to find one of the security guards or someone who worked here to get them to start evacuating the building.  If there was one device, there was likely more.  

 

She had just started walking away from the front door as the first explosion went off.

 

__________________

 

Becky sat in the cab of the truck, an open beer in her hand and her feet up on the dashboard.  She reached out and repositioned her rifle that was sitting on the passenger seat before she turned up the volume as “Rose Tattoo” started playing through the sound system.  She hummed along with the song as her feet tapped out the rhythm of the song. 

 

She glanced at the time on the dashboard.  After watching the people that had walked through the door, Becky was more excited to detonate her presents than she was when she was setting them up.  There was a possibility that she could take out Sammartino and Kane in one go. Granted, she would have to settle for Angle from SHIELD instead of Slaughter, but she would take what she could get.  If she could pull this off, it had the chance to alter the whole tide of this war.  

 

Becky decided that waiting for a little more than two hours after everyone had gone into the building was good enough.  Plus she was running out of patience, actually quite proud of herself for being able to wait as long as she had.  She couldn’t keep the grin off of her face as she grabbed the first detonator, whispered a quick “fág en bealach,” and activated it.  The second one followed a few moments later, followed by the third.  

 

She waited another three minutes before she pushed the detonator for the main device.  When nothing happened she pressed it again, and again when there was still no explosion from the main device.

 

“Fuck!”  she cursed as she sat up and checked the area in front of the hotel.  When people started streaming out the doors, she knew that something had gone wrong, and now it was too late to get in position with her rifle.  

  
“Tá tú fuckers mháthair-ádh.  A gheobhaidh tú chun cónaí lá eile,” she grumbled as she put the truck into drive and took off, more than a little upset that her plan had failed.  


	18. Growing Pains - Bayley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Bayley Martinez must continue to work to not only earn the trust of her new home but to prepare it to face the challenges ahead.

Bayley Martinez sighed inwardly as she watched the ragged volley of gunfire. 

 

Only inwardly though, outwardly she kept a smile on her face and nodded approvingly. She supposed that it hadn’t been terrible, definitely better than it had been in the past. But the men and women in front of her were far from the makings of an army. Hell, they were just getting to the point where they might be as dangerous as others as they were to themselves. 

 

“Cease fire!” she called. When the men and women had lowered their weapons she said: That’s enough for today. Good work everyone, I’m seeing lots of improvement.” With a chorus of appreciative noises and nods the group began to disperse, some taking their weapons with them and others leaving the one’s that belonged the settlement. 

 

“Coming to dinner agent?” a man named Darren asked.

 

“Go on ahead, I’m going to clean up and then I’ll be there,” Bayley told him with a smile before turning back to the tables of guns. Her pack and weapons were sitting nearby, she never let them out of her easy reach, but at the moment she was wearing only her leather jacket and fleece. She supposed that the people of the settlement could be grateful for a relatively mild winter, but given the state of the world around them, Bayley didn’t blame them for forgetting this.

 

Since she’d first arrived at the school she’d been going almost non-stop. From helping fight off raids to going on scouting and scavenging runs, and now training some of the people living there Bayley was busy. Though, hopefully, if she worked hard enough on the third option she could eventually see a slightly reduced workload.

 

Bayley had been very fortunate so far in that she’d been able to find several large stockpiles of food for the settlement. But even so, it was surely amazing just how much a group of sixty-one people could consume, even when they were carefully rationing. Everyone was looking forward to spring, but for Bayley, the main reason was that they might be able to begin planting crops.

 

If the crisis around them continued, and she saw no signs that it wouldn’t, they would need to find some sort of renewable food source. The people in the school were optimistic about their chances as their home was adjacent to two large athletic fields. If they could fully use those spaces they could grow a LOT of food. Unfortunately, this kind of activity would be very labor-intensive and time-consuming. 

 

One of the long term goals/pipe dreams of the settlement was to someday extend their wall to encompass not just the parking lot but around both fields and the rest of the school. If they could do this then defending themselves would be a lot easier. Unfortunately, this sort of project would take even more work than planting and definitely some heavy equipment. The more immediate problem was staying alive until they could begin planting and building.

 

The men and women in the school were determined to defend their new home, but their enthusiasm far outstripped their skill. This was why Bayley had prevailed upon Bobby to set up the makeshift shooting ranging in the parking lot. She only had a handful of people who even handled firearms before, and even fewer with any real skill. She did believe that her small group was improving but there were a series of hurdles to this progress.

 

The first was simply one of supply. When she’d arrived the settlement had less than ten weapons total. Most of the adults had been armed with baseball bats or knives from the school kitchen. It wasn’t as though they could simply go buy more, so finding weapons was one of Bayley’s priorities. She’d turned up a few here and there but far fewer than were needed. Sadly, the most consistent source they had was from loot Every time Bayley drove off a raid (and it was usually Bayley doing most of the work) they made sure to pick up the weapons dropped by the attackers. 

 

Even if their little armory was growing this wasn’t enough to address their problems. The weapons they brought in varied enormously in type and quality. Their inventory ran the gamut between two lovingly maintained AR-15’s and ancient-looking break apart shotguns. What was more, having the weapon didn’t mean they had ammo for it. And the bewildering array of guns called for an equally bewildering list of ammo. Their supplies were so short that Bayley could only let her trainees fire a handful of shots a few times a week. Not ideal for turning out shooters.

 

She was thinking about all of this as she automatically cleaned the guns left on the tables. As engrossed as she was her instincts never deserted her and she was aware someone was approaching from behind long before they announced themselves.

 

“Hello, Bobby,” she said as she continued to clean the Remington .30-06 in front of her.

 

There was a short pause before he asked: “How did you know it was me?”

 

“I didn’t, lucky guess,” Bayley said with a shrug.

 

“I was watching from inside, are things getting better?” he asked. Bayley thought about her answer, she didn’t want to lie and she knew Bobby could handle hard truths. 

 

“A little, but not enough. If we want to get better with their weapons they need to be able to fire them and for that they need bullets,” she said simply. Bobby nodded as he appeared next to her and stared sadly at the makeshift targets downrange. 

 

“I have an idea,” he said finally. Bayley briefly stopped her work on the rifle at this.

 

“If it’s the same one you’ve had for a while, it’s still a bad one,” she said, keeping her voice calm. 

 

“I know, but what choice do we have? Besides, you can keep them safe,” Bobby countered.

 

“MAYBE…” Bayley shot back “...But who’s watching my back while I’m doing that?”

 

“They have to be able to help SOMEHOW…” Bobby said in a conciliatory tone “...Couldn’t they...I don't know, shoot from cover outside or something?”

 

Bayley sighed. It was a common misconception among the general public that simply bringing MORE gunfighters HAD to be better than the alternative. The problem with this line of thinking was that bullets don't discriminate, Bayley was just vulnerable to an errant shot from her ‘backup’ as she would have been to one aimed at her by an enemy. And she wasn’t at all convinced that bringing the small group she’d been working with along wouldn’t be more of a hazard than a help.

 

“Can you do it on your own?” Bobby asked quietly. Bayley had thought long and hard about this possibility. They were discussing a raid that Bobby had long wanted to conduct on police station not far from the school. More than just a station it was also where the CPD had formerly sent old evidence before its destruction. This meant that the facility would likely contain a LOT of weapons. 

 

It was a good idea, the problem was it was a good idea for more than just them. Bayley had scouted the place thoroughly and found that a very large group of the scavengers that called themselves ‘Demons’ had settled into the building. Bayley could overcome small groups of demons with no problem. Almost thirty of them holed up in a stronghold and heavily armed was a different matter.

 

“Maybe…” she finally answered Bobby, though her doubts were obvious in her voice.

 

“Is there any chance of you getting any other help?”

 

“Probably not,” Bayley admitted with a heavy sigh. She hadn’t heard anything else from the mysterious ‘T. Dashwood’ or any other kind of support for that matter. 

 

“Do you see any other way we can get the equipment we need?” Bobby asked gently.

 

“I should have known better than to have this argument with someone who taught rhetoric,” Bayley muttered. Bobby chuckled at this.

 

“Look, you’ve done far more than any of us could have asked. You don’t have to do anything and I’m not going to beg you. You know out situation though and you know these people will follow you if you ask,” he said before putting a hand on Bayley’s shoulder. “We’ll save you a tray in the cafeteria,” he added before turning to leave.

 

“If I die, I’m going to haunt you forever,” Bayley muttered to him as she moved on to the next weapon in front of her.

 

“It’s a deal.”

 

\----------

 

Five days later Bayley was crouching in the living room of an abandoned house located half a block from the police station. She was peering cautiously through the window that gave her a decent view of the street, but more than that she was listening with all her might. The next few minutes would likely decide if her plan worked and she walked away with the prize or if she lost a lot of people.

 

She’d spent much of the previous days observing the police station, trying to learn what she could about its defenses. She hadn’t gained much knowledge but what she had was enough for her to form a plan. 

 

It seemed that the demons in the station had barricaded themselves in. Digging them out through force would be next to impossible for Bayley and her ragtag group. Bayley would have been reluctant to attack the place with a team of division agents. But, her observations had shown her one potential weakness. 

 

On day three of her surveillance, she’d been watching as a group of unsuspecting people had appeared from the neighborhood to the west of the station. They weren’t armed and had the desperate haggard look of refugees. Everything inside Bayley told her to hurry over to the people or at least shout a warning, they clearly didn’t know the danger they were in. But before she could figure out a way to save the group the decision was taken out of her hand.

 

One of the garage doors on the station creaked open and a group of people spilled out. All of them were armed and all were wearing riot armor or vests. As Bayley looked on in horror they descended on the group. The demons forced the group to their knees and proceeded to strip them nearly bare. Bayley was working on how best to intervene the demons proceeded to execute the whole group and leave their corpses in the street.

 

Bayley had looked away, hot tears of shame forming in her eyes. She’d let herself cry for a few minutes but then she’d pulled herself together and hurried back to the school. From this tragedy could come victory if they were lucky. And now here she was, waiting.

 

Then she heard it, the sound of an engine. 

 

Tapping her earpiece Bayley whispered: “Stand by ambush team, it’s showtime.”

 

Her plan was so simple she was honestly worried that the demons would see the bait and simply ignore it. Two of her people were going to drive a box truck they had commandeered past the station and turn down the street Bayley and her team were currently lying in wait on. They would then fake a breakdown and get out. If things were all clear they would then pop the trunk and remove the many large, but empty, boxes and then begin to try and haul them down the street. 

 

Bayle hoped that the demon’s, intrigued and greedy, would hurry out of the station. Not only to grab her people, but also the car and whatever was in the boxes. On Bayley’s signal, her people would reveal themselves and turn the street into a shooting gallery. Her team wouldn’t need to be marksmen to hit targets at this distance and if they got enough of the demons they could greatly reduce the number of defenders in the station. In a perfect world, the demons would send even more people out from the station to reinforce the first group. 

 

The plan didn’t stop there, however. On another signal from Bayley, her people were to disengage and melt back into the surrounding houses and streets. But they were to do so in a noisy way, trying to draw any remaining demons after them. Bayley had no illusions that the station would be empty by now but if they could take even ten Demons out of the place she was confident that she could handle the rest when she infiltrated the place later that night.

 

A lot of could go wrong, but it was the best she could come up with. 

 

As her decoy truck approached she kept her binoculars trained on the station, no sign of activity yet. It was possible that the demons wouldn’t stir if they thought the truck would just drive past. 

  
They didn’t.

 

Before the truck could even turn a hail of gunfire ripped out from the windows of the police station and struck the truck. The driver panicked and slammed on the accelerator, but in the middle of a turn. This sent the top-heavy vehicle wobbling and a moment later it tipped, sliding into a tree at a painfully high speed. Almost exactly where Bayley had wanted them to stop anyway.

 

“Well, that’ll do I guess,” she muttered to herself. She then tapped her earpiece again and asked: “Driver team, you alright?” 

 

“Yeah…” came the strained reply “...But we’re trapped here.”

 

“Sit tight then, we’ve got this,” Bayley reassured them. Truthfully she was regretting the loss of even those two men. This left her with only nine shooters, only two of which were truly dangerous. She was going to say something else when she looked back toward the station and saw the garage door opening. To her dismay, she saw a mere handful of figures emerging, but almost twenty of them.

 

“Holy shit…” someone said over the comms.

 

“Stay calm, it just means more targets,” Bayley answered. Maybe so, but it also meant more people shooting back as well. She was also seeing that the way the truck and tipped was going to prevent her from shooting from her nice secure ambush location. “Shit!” she muttered as she stood and hurried out the backdoor of the home she was in. 

 

Moving as quickly as she could without making an undue amount of noise, Bayley quickly moved three homes closer to the police station. As she did she kept listening and heard the shouting of the oncoming group of demons. Taking cover she watched between two houses as the group passed her, fully intent on the truck. She knew that she wouldn’t get a perfect shooting gallery as she’d hoped, so she was going to do some reckless. 

 

Hustling toward the street, Bayley deployed the drone on her back and then dropped her seeker mind. Her breath was coming raggedly as she finally burst from between the house and shouted into her comms: “Fire!”

 

Raising her shrike, Bayley let loose a hail of bullets toward the still clustered group of demons. Pausing for a fraction of second she hit the button on the side of her laser pointer targetting both her drone and seeker at the group. She was only dimly aware of the shots coming from the homes around her as she kept pouring it on. 

 

Bayley was so caught up in what she was doing that she wasn’t even really aware of how the overall situation was progressing. She kept her gun spewing death as she advanced slowly toward her enemy. The demons had taken a full two seconds to realize they were even under attack. In that time Bayley and her team managed to half their number. Seeing this the survivors began to turn and run toward the station.

 

Then the seeker mine reached them and detonated. 

 

Bayley just had time to see the sphere come to a stop and then to fling herself to the ground before the titanic sound nearly deafened her. But she was in combat mode now so she gave a heartbeat before shooting back to her feet and scanning the street. She saw no living enemies there so she turned toward the station and saw that two of the demons had managed to escape the blast and were still retreating. 

 

Without thinking, Bayley took off after them. It was hard to run carrying all of her gear, armor, and weapons but she managed a respectable pace. She didn’t fire on either demon, her eyes were fixed straight ahead at the still open garage door. She was so focused on this that she barely noticed the shots coming toward her from the station windows. So focused, that she wasn’t even aware that she was bellowing at the top of her lungs. 

 

She knew that if the demon’s closed that door she and her team would be forced to try and force their way in, and who knew if they’d be able to manage that. They’d been given a gift with the extra-large group leaving the station but now Bayley had to take advantage of their surprise win. She was twenty yards away from the door as it began to close, fifteen when the demons she was chasing reached it, ten when she threw her last remaining seeker mine and watched it roll under the closing door. 

 

She took cover beside the opening as the mine exploded. Bayley felt the wall actually rock behind her as anguished screams sounded from inside the garage. Giving herself only a moment to catch her breath, Bayley ducked under the door, which had stopped closing, and waded in. 

 

She found herself in a large garage though there were no vehicles inside. She dimly took in details like the generally shattered appearance of the space but mostly she was looking for targets. She found two and dispatched both before they could even raise their guns. A third yelped and took off toward the exit but Bayley killed him before he got there. Looking frantically around the interior of the garage she located a pair of large red buttons on the wall and sprinted over to them. Hammering both with her fist she heard the garage doors as they began to creak open. 

 

“Change of plans boys and girls…” Bayley said before she had to take a deep breath “...Press forward now! We won’t get a better chance than this.”

 

Taking a few more gasping breaths she dropped the magazine on her weapon and replaced it with a fresh one. Moving toward the door that her final victim had been running toward, Bayley through the door open and shot into the hallway beyond. 

 

As it turned out, the demons had almost emptied the station in their eagerness to seize whatever was in the truck they’d shot up. It only took her ten minutes to hunt down the remaining men and women in the station. None of whom offered to surrender. Three tried to run for it, but they ran smack into Bayley’s arriving team and were killed.

 

When they found Bayley, she was collapsed in an office chair still trying to catch her breath. Looking up them Bayley gave a weak grin and said: “Well...that went better than I’d hoped.” They grinned back and she added: “By the way, if any of you ever do anything as dumb as what I just did...I’ll shoot you myself.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” they said with a laugh before accompanying her back down to the garage. Through some miracle, Bayley hadn’t lost anyone. The people who’d been in the truck were a little banged up but nothing serious. Still, Bayley didn’t want to push her luck so she gave quick orders for some of her team to take up defensive positions and the rest to begin searching for weapons. 

 

Bayley was about to join them when someone put a hand on her shoulder. Turning she found herself facing Dakota Kai, one of the members of her team. Dakota wasn’t armed because she hadn’t come along as a combatant. She’d been a nursing student when the world had ended and now she was the school's de facto medic. Bayley knew the girl wasn’t fully comfortable with this responsibility but she knew more than anyone else about medicine in the community. 

 

“Want me to take a look at that?” Dakota asked, nodding at Bayley’s hip. Looking down, Bayley was surprised to see a dark patch of blood there. And it was only now that she looked at it that she realized there was a stinging pain in the body part. She hadn’t felt a thing when she’d sustained the wound.

 

“It’s nothing, must have gotten clipped when I was charging,” Bayley said dismissively as she stood slowly. She’d only meant to allow herself a minute to rest. She knew her professional eye would be needed in the process of selecting weapons. 

 

“Then it won’t take long to patch it up,” Dakota said simply as she pulled Bayley out of the garage and into a bathroom. Once inside she knelt and began rummaging in her first aid bag. As she did she said: “Drop your pants.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” Bayley muttered sarcastically as she did as she was told, pulling her pants down to expose the wound on her side. Dakota ran a flashlight over it before pulling on some gloves and starting to clean the wound.

 

“Looks like you just got grazed, hang on,” she said in her New Zealand accent.

 

“You deal with a lot of gunshot wounds in school?” Bayley asked as she winced at the stinging sensation that told her Dakota was cleaning the graze. 

 

“This is Chicago, of course, it came up,” Dakota joked. They were both quiet for a few moments before Bayley felt the cleaning stop momentarily. “That was really brave, what you did out there,” Dakota said before she got back to work.

 

“Stupid, more like,” Bayley said dryly.

 

“Things can be both,” Dakota answered quickly as she finished her work and tossed her gloves and other supplies in a trash can. She then took a fresh pair out as well as a bandage.

 

Bayley chuckled. “I suppose they can,” she said as she watched Dakota cover her wound. When she was done, Bayley stepped back and pulled up her pants. “Thank you, good as new,” she told the girl.

 

“I hope so,” Dakota said, smiling shyly as she stood and looked at Bayley. For her part, Bayley barely noticed this as she turned and marched out of the bathroom. She had work to do. 

 

The first thing she did was find the station’s radio and use it to contact Bobby at the school. She told him they’d cleared the place but needed help moving their prizes. Roode confirmed he’d send a pair of trucks and Bayley signed off. She then made her way back to the warehouse where the weapons were stored, in former days to await destruction. 

 

It was obvious that the demons who had set up shop in place had helped themselves to a fair chunk of the weapons. But as Dakota had alluded to, this was Chicago. The CPD had stashed a lot of weapons in the place. Bayley made sure to direct her people to grab weapons based on what ammunition was available. The most prevalent were by far handguns, but Bayley focused her efforts more on long arms. 

 

They caught a minor break when they found a pair of small four-wheel utility vehicles in the back lot of the station. This would increase the number of weapons they could carry, but Bayley also made sure to conduct a thorough search of the rest of the building and reserved one of the smaller vehicles for armor, communications gear, and various other bits of plunder. They even found some food and water that the demons had been hoarding which Bayley had stored in the cab of one of Roode’s trucks when they arrived. This necessarily meant a lot of the team would be walking back but she felt this was a small price to pay. All in all, they probably left the station over a hundred weapons of various types and enough ammo to keep them fed for a long time. 

 

As the last step, Bayley ordered the remaining members of her team to check every vehicle in the garage or parking lot to see if any worked. They caught another stroke of luck when they found that a single police cruiser was still working and had it’s keys inside. Though she knew of no definitive threat she had the sense that lingering here would be dangerous. So after they hurriedly crammed the car full of more supplies she sent it and the rest of her team on their way.

 

Bayley didn’t head back to the school right away, she took on herself the duty of cleaning up. So after she crammed her pockets full of a number of goodies, she set about sabotaging the place. She put pistol rounds into all the comms equipment they hadn’t taken, slashed every tire she found, and then turned her eyes on the weapons storage.

 

The building was old, which a good thing in this case. Had it been made of brick or steel then the job would have been much harder. As it was, she just some gasoline along the perimeter of the building and set fire to it. But her work for that night wasn’t done at this. Instead of heading back to the school she hurried across the street from the station and ensconced herself in one of the abandoned homes that gave a view of the station and waited. She was certain that their attack, or at least the fire, would draw attention. And she meant to find out what kind.

 

Maybe if she hadn’t set the fire the response would have been slower. But as it was, she was surprised just how rapidly someone arrived. She was watching through her binoculars as a trio of humvee’s roared up. Almost before they stopped, soldiers piled out only to stand around helplessly as they watched the rising flames coming from behind the station. Bayley thought she could dimly hear someone shouting but she was too far away to hear the words. 

 

This was her second encounter with these mysterious SHIELD soldiers. She wondered again who they were, and why they weren’t working with the JTF. Though, as she hadn’t seen any evidence of the organization’s continued existence, she also had to wonder if there even was a JTF still. 

 

She kept watching as the soldiers entered the station and then waited for the hour or so it took for them to reemerge. Some of them had small crates in their arms but their body language betrayed their disappointment. This made Bayley smile to herself, this day had been good for them. 

 

It was well past dark before she began to head back to the school. She moved cautiously so it took her a long time and she arrived after midnight. Nonetheless, the gates were opened for her (she was pleased to see that the guards were armed with some of their new weapons) and she was allowed in. She found Bobby still awake, obviously waiting for her.

 

“Well, that went pretty well,” she said tiredly, she really wanted to get the storage closet that served as her bedroom and fall asleep. But she knew that first things came first. To her surprise, Bobby wasn’t grinning at her. Instead, he looked troubled. “What’s wrong?” Bayley asked?

 

“We installed that new comms equipment you found,” Roode said.

 

“That seems like good news.”

 

Roode was wearing an odd expression now as he said: “There’s...someone who wants to talk to you.”

 

Bayley blinked. “Me?” she asked. Rather than answer, Bobby just beckoned for her to follow him. Confused and a bit leery, Bayley did so and didn’t speak until they were standing in the room that served as the school’s command center. Without a word, Bobby pointed her toward a satellite comm unit in the corner. Frowning, Bayley made her way to the device and donned the headset. Lifting the microphone she hit transmit and said: “This is Martinez.”

 

To her surprise the response was instant. A woman she didn’t know asked: “ _AGENT Bayley Martinez?_ ” 

 

This took Bayley aback but she answered with a simple: “Hello?”

 

“Stand by please,” was the reply before the line went silent. Bayley looked over at Bobby with an incredulous expression. His only response was a concerned shrug. Bayley was left waiting for several minutes before someone spoke on the line again. A different woman who, even through the static, sounded as though she’d been woken from a deep sleep. 

 

“ _Agent Martinez?_ ”

 

“That’s me…” Bayley answered.

 

“ _My name is Lieutenant Charlotte Flair, I’ve been hoping to talk to you for a few days now._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter that doesn't center around the gala at Velveteen Bliss? GASP! Yes, friends, anything is possible.
> 
> Remember to leave kudos and comments here! We love them! And, for your own peace of mind, better leave a bookmark...just to be safe...
> 
> AFTER you do all that, I'd be much obliged if you moseyed on over to Literature Locker's page and checked out "Fairytales Start With Curses" which is a phenomenal Supergirl universe fic. It's worth two or three reads so make sure to shower my wonderful co-author with praise!
> 
> What did everyone think of today's chapter? How is Bayley doing? Are things looking up for the school?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	19. Looking for a place to start -- Charlotte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte steps up as regional Commander for Chicago's Division Agents. And the further she gets into the job, the more she realizes that things weren't always what they seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our lovely readers! I owe you a massive apology for the lateness of this chapter! The last two weeks at work kicked my ass between training and mandatory overtime, I simply ran out of hours in the day. But you have once again proven to be the best fandom out there because of how patient you have been with me. You are the best, and I greatly appreciate each and every one of you!
> 
>  
> 
> ______________

Charlotte sighs as she looked at the door to Arn’s office.   _ Your office now, _ she reminds herself.  Pain clutches at her heart as she places her hand on the door and tries to take a deep breath.  Nothing about this felt right. This office was Arn’s and should still be Arn’s.

 

_ If only you had been better, faster, stronger _ she scolded herself.   _ If you had just been a better agent, this would still be his office, and you’d still be making fun of how old he is while the two of you eat meals together. _

 

Charlotte’s eyes slide shut as she rests her forehead against the door.  “Okay, you got this Flair. It’s just a door. You can do this.”

 

If she was being honest with herself, all of this was moving way too fast.  The gala had only been three days ago, and Charlotte had assumed that Arn hadn’t been serious when he told her that she would be taking over.  As far as she was concerned, she should still just be another agent who happened to be stationed out of headquarters. After all, there had to have been some contingency plan in place for this type of thing.

 

Or so she thought.

 

It had taken her a few hours to get back to headquarters after the gala.  And a few more to brief everyone who should be in the know on what happened.  Then she had passed out. She had then spent the next twenty-four hours trying to process everything that had gone down.  And finally, this morning after she had gone to get some food, there had been a knock on the door to her quarters.  

 

Drs. Scot, Bevis, and Sane had been standing on the other side when she opened the said door.  Dr. Sane had simply handed her a USB drive, with a tight, sad smile on her face. Charlotte had looked at it in confusion.  “Umm… thanks?” she had said.  

 

Dr. Scot mimicked Sane’s smile as she explained that Arn had listed her as his next of kin and that the file on the USB drive was his Advanced  Directive. Charlotte had simply looked down at it in wonder. Then Bevis had handed her a piece of paper that had been notarized a while ago, authorizing her as the new Commander for the Agents in the greater Chicago area.     

 

Charlotte had looked over the paper a few times, a look of shock on her face.  “There has to be a mistake,” she had said as she read it one more time.  

 

Dr. Scot had reached out and squeezed her arm.  “I’m afraid not. He appointed you his successor.”

 

With that, the three doctors had turned and left Charlotte standing in her bunk.  That had been a few hours ago, and according to both the executive order and Arn’s advance directive, he had indeed named Charlotte as the one to take over in case he died in the field.

 

Now Charlotte stood with her forehead resting against the door of the office. She took one final deep breath to steady herself against whatever was on the other side and turned the knob.  It was overall rather anticlimactic, but to Charlotte, it felt like a massive step into the unknown. 

 

It was dark inside the room, and even after flipping on the small lightbulb that hung from the ceiling, and the desk light, it was still full of shadows.  Charlotte sighed as she sat down in his chair and looked at the paperwork he had spread out across the top of his desk. It was chaotic and didn’t appear to have any sort of organization to it.  “Fuck,” Charlotte breathed out when she realized that it was going to take a while for her to make sense of all of this. 

 

She turned her attention briefly to a list that was on a whiteboard hanging on the wall.  One column looked to be GPS markers for locations further south. The other was a different set of GPS coordinates that seemed to bounce around all over the place. Some of the coordinates in the second column were highlighted in orange, which made Charlotte wonder exactly what they meant.  

 

She leaned back in the chair and looked at the map on the table, covered in various markers that didn’t make much sense at all.   _ Okay, that settles it _ , Charlotte thought to herself as she started opening up drawers in the desk.  She was hoping that Arn had left some journal or code key for the wealth of information that was laying around the room.  

 

She was just making her way through the third drawer when there was a knock on the door frame.  “Good, you’re here.”

 

Charlotte looks up, startled.  “I’m sorry, who are you?”

 

The woman smiles and hands Charlotte a stack of papers.  “Mickie James, I run the kitchens around here.”

 

Charlotte just nods as she looks at the paperwork.  “And this?” she asks as she holds it up.

 

Mickie’s smile falters a bit, but she pushes on.  “Inventory of the pantry, projected longevity of current food supplies and what we still need for the kitchens.”

 

Charlotte looks down at the papers and studies them for a second even though they don’t make sense to her.  “OK…? Thank you...I think.”

 

Mickie’s brow furrows as she turns to leave.  It was obvious from those few seconds that this Commander was struggling already.  And she had only been Commander for a few hours, which didn’t bode well from the operational standpoint of headquarters.  James pauses at the door. “Expect Shirai, Vega, and Evans next. Most likely in that order.”

 

Charlotte’s eyes dart up to the door, “what?” she asks, but Mickie is already gone. 

 

Turns out she wasn’t wrong though, as Io Shirai was the next to enter the office and hand her the inventory for the armory and what they still needed to keep both Agents and JTF personnel equipped with proper weapons.  That particular list was extensive and a little over the top with the requests that Shirai was making.  _ Where the hell was she even supposed to find some of this stuff? _   And the fact that some of her people were going out on patrol with nothing but a double-barrel shotgun was not only embarrassing, but it was also appalling as well.  She made a quick mental note to reach out to the revival and solidify their trade agreement before any of her JTF members got injured or killed because of insufficient weaponry.

 

The third to walk through the door a few minutes later was Zelina Vega, who was in charge of the drones.  She handed Charlotte an updated map, with markings that she didn’t understand. She looked from the map to Vega, and back to the map.  “Is… are these good adjustments, or…?” Vega rolled her eyes and muttered some things in Spanish that didn’t sound pleasant. But she did spend some time explaining what Charlotte was looking at.  Charlotte thanked her once she was done and watched her go, still not one hundred percent sure what all of the markings meant.  

 

Finally, Lacey Evans stopped in the doorway and actually threw up a fucking salute.  “Commander,” she paused and waited for Charlotte to do something. Which she did when she simply gestures for Lacey to come into the office.  “Don’t do that. What do you have for me?”

 

Evans slowly hands her a single piece of paper.  On it were three columns with names in each one. This particular piece of paper Charlotte understood.  “Fuck,” she breathed out. “That many?”

 

Evans nods solemnly.  “Unfortunately.”

 

“What are we doing about the ones who are MIA?” Charlotte asks, her eyes never leaving the paper.

 

“Nothing,” Evans answers.

 

Charlotte stills.  “I’m sorry, what?” her eyes shift up to take in the other blonde.

 

Evans shrugs.  “Nothing. We don’t have the manpower or the resources to go after them.  Anderson knew we were fighting a losing battle and kept everyone except the Division Agents on the defensive.”

 

Charlotte straightens and holds up the paper.  “There are fifteen names in the MIA list, and you’re telling me that he told you to just leave them out there to fend for themselves?”   
  


Lacey simply nods.

 

Charlotte shakes her head.  “Unacceptable. From now on, we don’t leave our people out in the cold.  I don’t care how much ground we lose getting them back, they are our number one priority.  Get me a list of everyone who works here and the jobs that they perform. And bring me an updated list every morning.”

 

Evans nods and turns towards the door, but stops when Charlotte calls after her.  “And get me an inventory of what we have in medical. We’re done leaving our people behind.”

 

Throwing another salute, Evans turns and leaves as Charlotte gets up from where she was sitting and goes over to the map on the table.  “Start small, one problem at a time,” Charlotte whispered to herself as she looked down at the map, and compared it to the one Vega had dropped off.

  
  


_________________   
  


 

Charlotte flipped through the jacket of another Division Agent and looked at the status update on the last page.  She sighs as she takes the picture of Finn Bálor out and pins it in the rogue agent column she made on the wall.  It was a fucking shame that she had to put his picture there…he would have made a tremendous asset. 

 

Taking a step back, Charlotte surveys what the few lists are looking like in front of her.  On the far right side of the wall were the pictures of Bálor, Riott, Morgan, Logan, and Orton in the known rogue agent list.  They took the place next to several other pictures that Arn had already set up. This particular column was growing the more she sifted through the personnel files.  The only column that was beating it in size was the KIA column.  

 

To the left of that, there was the small list of Agents that were active and helping the cause as far as she could tell.  That list consisted of Ali, Kingston, a man named Big E and Rhodes. There were a few who were question marks, but still fell under this category until proven otherwise.  

 

The final column had gotten so big that she had to dedicate its own wall to the pictures and lists of those that were killed in action.  The weird part about it was that most of them were showing up with a single gunshot wound to either their head or their heart. The kills were clinical and efficient, almost as if they were performed without any amount of emotion behind them.  And what was even weirder was that their ISAC nodes were missing. Charlotte sighed as she made a mental note to look into this little anomaly. She had to know whether this shooter was one person or multiple people so she could take them out. They were killing her people, and she wouldn’t stand for it.

 

And then there were the three files that had been placed in the safe that Charlotte had managed to open a few days ago.  She rubbed at her eyes and stared at the list she made, studying the three names that were now in the middle of the chart.  She yawned as she tried to focus in on them… they were important somehow, Arn had made sure to separate their files and had even marked them with a note that said  _ find them _ .  But Charlotte couldn’t even be sure that they had been activated or if they were still alive.  No one had heard from them since the beginning of the outbreak.  

 

She looked at their pictures again.  The first, Martinez her mind supplied had a side ponytail and was grinning at the camera.  The second was a woman with bright red hair and seemed to be mean-mugging the camera. Agent Lynch looked like she would be a whole lot of fun if they ever met in person.  She picked up the last file and started at the large square with a question mark that was in the place of Banks’ picture. This one was obviously going to be a major headache for her.

 

Charlotte yawned again, unsure of when the last time she had slept was.  Suddenly a cup of coffee appeared in front of her, and she took it with a small smile.  “Thanks.”

 

Lacey Evans nodded and looked at the list of Agents on the wall.  “That doesn’t look good.”

 

Charlotte shook her head.  “No, it doesn’t.”

 

She turns to face the blonde.  “How did that supply run go this morning?”   
  


Lacey winces.  “Not great. We managed to collect some food and water, but not enough to make a dent in what we actually need.”

 

Charlotte sighs.  “Okay, and how is Shirai doing on locations of weapons for us to use?”

 

Lacey shakes her head.  “She’s still working on it, and with some of the JTF not being properly trained before being given a gun, we’re burning through ammo at a rate faster than we’re replenishing it.”

 

“Ground we’ve managed to either gain or hold?”

 

Evans hands her a new map from Vega.  “Again, not great news ma’am.”

 

Charlotte gapes at the map she’s holding in her hand.  They had somehow managed to lose more than five blocks overnight.  Though there seemed to be more and more buildings popping up with that weird symbol everyone was talking about only five to ten blocks from here.   
  
“News of the settlement that popped up in the South?”

 

“That…that is something that seems to be holding out,” Lacey answered tentatively. 

 

Charlotte nods and places the map down next to the inventory lists that she had received that morning.  She had already tried reaching out to the Revival a few times but hadn’t heard back from them yet. And she was considering a list of things she’d be willing to trade with Soldier Field if it came to it.   

“Tell me you have some good news for me,” Charlotte sighed out as she pinched the bridge of her nose.  

 

Evans snaps her fingers.  “There’s a gas station a few blocks away.  Reports from the field are that it’s untouched and only a few Demons are guarding it,” she goes over to the large tabletop map and places a marker top down on the location.

 

Charlotte nods and reaches for the radio.  “KO, let me know when the New Day gets back from their mission.  I have a small supply run for them to take.”

 

“Roger that, Commander.”

 

Charlotte turns back to Evans.  “Anything else I should know about?”

 

Lacey hands her a piece of paper, “three more confirmed in the last couple of days.  Their ISAC’s haven’t been recovered, but the last data transmission has them deceased.”

 

Charlotte closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.  “Thank you, Evans. That will be all.”

 

She waits until Lacey leaves the room and closes the door behind her before she slumps down into the chair behind the desk.  Nothing about this was going well. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but when she was just running missions she had assumed that they were doing all right with everything… that they were at least pulling even.  Turns out she had been very sorely mistaken.

 

They were definitely on the losing end of this fight, and Charlotte wasn’t sure if they would be able to recover or not.  There weren’t enough supplies, and definitely not enough personnel around to go out and get more. Not to mention all of the Division Agents that were turning up dead.  Someone was out there killing her Agents and she had no idea who it was.

 

And then there was the issue with the settlement in the south.  They didn’t seem to be as well built up as Soldier Field, which would leave them vulnerable to an attack.  Charlotte could see the appeal of allying with them but had no real way of contacting them.  It didn’t seem like their communications were online, and even if they were it was a possibility that whoever she was trying to reach was just ignoring her.  Which meant she would most likely have to go down there and meet with them in person, which she just couldn’t do right now. It was too far and way too risky.

 

Charlotte groans as she puts her head down on top of the desk.  This was not how she had hoped any of this would go when she got that advanced directive a few days ago.  She was tired, she was sore, she was grieving, and most importantly… she was falling behind in such an epic way that there may not be any coming back from it.  

 

She was running out of supplies, she was running out of people.  She was running out of land and she was definitely running out of time.  Arn had dropped a mess into her lap, one that was so chaotic and flawed that she felt like it was pulling her under and she was barely keeping her head afloat.  

 

There was a knock on the door, and Charlotte called out for the person to enter without even picking up her head.  The only members who came into her office had already seen her asleep in the chair, so this wouldn’t be too bad.  “Ummm, excuse me, Commander?”

 

Charlotte’s head snapped up at the timid female voice coming from the door.  “Yes? I’m sorry, who are you?”

 

The smaller woman pointed to herself and in heavily accented English introduced herself.  “Xia Li.”

 

Charlotte did a mental scan of the personnel paperwork that Evans had provided a few days ago and remembered this woman’s name on it.   “Of course Xia. What can I do for you?”

 

She appeared to be nervous to answer that question as she fiddled with her fingers.  “There was a… there was an incident in the basement. It has to do with the generators.”

 

Charlotte closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “They finally figured out why we’ve been losing power over the last couple of days?”

 

Xia nodded and moved out of the doorway as Charlotte got up and pushed her way through.  She stopped a few steps in front of Xia. She turned back quickly. “I’m sorry, can you remind me what your job is here?”

 

“I run messages back and forth,”  Xia shrugs.  

 

Charlotte nods.  “Perfect. Think you can find me, Naomi?  Used to be a firefighter? She should be back from the raid she was on yesterday.”

 

Xia nods and scampers off to find the person that Charlotte had asked for, and Charlotte watches her go, wondering where exactly she had come from.  Charlotte rubs her hand across her eyes and starts making her way towards the basement of the warehouse where they had set up the engineering department.  This had better be good news, otherwise, Charlotte might lose her freaking mind.

 

 A few minutes later, she standing in front of a taller, tanned man with long blonde hair and a relaxed attitude and a rather intimidating looking woman with blonde hair that has been braided on one side of her head.  “You have news about the power outages?”

 

Riddle blinked a few times as he nodded.  “Yeah, we do, bro.”

 

Ripley elbowed him in his ribs.  “ _ That’s the Commander _ ,” she hissed as she smiles in apology at Charlotte, who waves it off dismissively.  

 

She waits a few seconds and then cocks an eyebrow.  “What’s the problem then?”

 

Riddle shrugs “we don’t have the parts we need to repair the generators.”

 

Charlotte looks between them and then deciding she would rather deal with Ripely and not wait forever for an answer, she turns to the woman.  “How many parts are we talking about?”

 

Ripley looks confused for a second.  “I’m sorry?”

 

Charlotte’s brow furrows.  “What do you need to keep these up and running?  And while we’re talking about it, how many are functioning right now?”

 

Ripley and Riddle share a look.  Rhea turns and points at two of the larger generators.  “Those two are all we have. The other four… they need parts before we can get them up and running.”

 

Charlotte nods.  “So, enough beating around the bush.  What do you two need to keep these up and running without needing constant time and attention?  I have other uses for you two without having you constantly stop to fix the electrical problem.”

 

Ripley’s face tightens skeptically, which gives Charlotte pause.  “Speak freely.”

 

Riddle is the one who speaks up instead.  “We’re eventually going to run out of gas to keep them running as well.  To keep them constantly running, solar panels are a better option.”

 

Charlotte groans and covers her face with her hands.  “Okay. That makes sense. But I’ll have to push it as a long term goal for us.  What about what you need right now?”

 

“Seriously?”

 

Charlotte studies Ripley briefly.  “Yes. We need electricity to keep the medical, communications and operations side of HQ operating.  Why do you look like I just told you elephants can fly.”

 

“Anderson had us Frankensteining these two generators together from the other four.  He said as long as we had one, it was good enough,” Riddle spoke rather carefully.

 

“Of course he did,” Charlotte breathed out.  “Okay. Get me a list of what you need by the end of the day, and then give me weekly updates on operating levels and gear you may need to keep things running smoothly.”

 

Both Ripley and Riddle nodded, small smiles tugging on their faces and looking like a weight had just been taken off their shoulders.  Charlotte nodded in response and then headed back up to her office.  

 

_ More fucking resources for us to try and find.  Looks like its time to start prioritizing these raiding parties _ , Charlotte thought to herself as she made her way into her office.  She pulled up short when there was already someone in there.

 

“You asked to see me, Commander?”

 

A quick smile pulled across Charlotte’s face.  “Naomi, thank you for coming by. I know you and your squad just got back this morning from a raid, so take the rest of the night off.  But tomorrow, I need you and your team to look into something for me.”

 

Naomi nods and follows as Charlotte walks over to the map on the table.   Charlotte points to several locations that were marked a little to the southeast of HQ.  “There have been bodies showing up here. Some are Demons and some are Division Agents. I need to get to the bottom of who is taking those shots.  We can’t keep losing Agents to them, and I’m hearing that it might be one single shooter. I need to get a set of eyes on it.”

 

Naomi studied the map and then shrugs.  “It should be easy. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

 

Charlotte shakes her hand.  “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

 

Once Naomi left, Charlotte closed the door and started making lists of things that still needed to be addressed.

  
  


______________

  
  


Charlotte shifted through pictures that had been taken by one of Vegas’ drones.  It was yet another building that was smoldering…or what was left of a building. Whoever was making these marks on the buildings a few blocks away was also blowing things up with what appeared to be no rhyme or reason.   Charlotte and sighed as she tossed the pictures back onto the ever-growing pile It seemed that the person responsible was calling themselves Straight Fire, and if the guys at the gala that Charlotte had overheard were to be believed, this person and the sniper were the same people.  Or could be. Or maybe Charlotte was really in a coma and was hallucinating all of this.  

 

The only good thing about this Straight Fire person was that they weren’t attacking civilians.  If the rumors were true, they were going out of their way to make sure that civilians were safe and looked after.  It was adding a bunch of credibility to their already growing reputation and was even making it difficult for Charlotte to walk around HQ without hearing about how amazing Straight Fire is.  She had even heard one of her agents talking to another in the chow hall about how they wished that Straight Fire had taken over when Anderson was killed.

 

That one had stung a little.  Not only because she was trying her best to keep things afloat.  It wasn’t her fault that she came in on the end of a losing battle and was trying to turn the tides of a literal war with the equivalent of Legos.  Plus Arn had religiously written everything in a code that only seemed to be able to understand. If he had written in plain English like a normal person, she would have had so many of these problems handled already.    

 

But that wasn’t the only thing that had hurt about that comment.  She had been noticing that while Arn had been well-liked and very well respected, everyone was acting as if nothing had shifted in their lives.  He was their Commander, and now he was gone. It was something that just happened, and when it did the world continued on. The issue was, he wasn’t just Charlotte’s commander.  He had raised her. He was there for her when no one else was. He taught her everything that she knew, especially when it came to the military. He was her dad in more ways than her actual father had been.

 

She sniffles and wipes at the tears forming in her eyes.  She didn’t have time to grieve for Arn right now. She would have time once she turned this city around.  Then she could take all the time she needed, but only once she had things under control here.

 

The radio on her desk crackled to life.  “Commander, you there?”

 

Charlotte sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, there really was no rest for the weary.  “Go ahead, Naomi.”

 

“Yeah, we’re here at the latest kill sight.  It’s the third or fourth that we’ve been to so far.  They all look the same. Same single shot from a distance, all either in between the eyes or right through the heart.”

 

Charlotte took a deep breath.  “What else?”

 

There was a decent pause.  “Nothing.”

 

Charlotte exhaled that breath harshly.  “What do you mean, nothing?”

 

Naomi’s voice sounded hesitant.  “Exactly what it sounds like. There is nothing else out here… just the bodies.”

 

Charlotte’s jaw clenched.  “I am assuming these entry and exit wounds aren’t caused by a .22?”

 

Another pause before an answer.  “Ummm no. They are not.”

 

“Then do me a favor and get me a bullet.  For the love of God, I don’t care how you do it!  Use an ice pick, bring down an entire building, drag the body in here… whatever it takes.  Just get me something we can track! This shooter is killing agents and we can’t let them keep doing it!”

 

 “Copy that,  _ Commander _ .”

 

“Wait!” Charlotte tried to catch Naomi before she signed off, but no such luck.  Charlotte yelled in frustration and threw a book across the room. She shouldn’t have snapped at Naomi like that.  If anything, she was proving to be one of her better JTF members. She was smart, capable and a hell of a shot. Not to mention she was a natural leader who people wanted to follow.  Charlotte made a mental note to apologize to Naomi as soon as she got back to HQ. Maybe even give the woman and her team a few days off because of all the work they had been doing for her.

 

Charlotte sighed and rubbed at her eyes.  She couldn’t remember the last time she got an actual night's rest that consisted of more than three hours.  She had even moved her rack so it was right next to the office. That way they could always find her in case of an emergency during those few precious hours she managed to close her eyes.  Her whole body felt like it weighed a few tons and her eyes were so dry they were burning even when she blinked. 

 

None of that excused snapping at her members, especially over a radio channel where anyone could hear.   _ Yep, they earned a few days R&R for that little outburst _ .  

 

She yawned as there was a knock on her door.  “Enter!”

 

Xia Li poked her head around the doorjamb.  “Dr. Bevis needs to see you.”

 

Shaking her head, Charlotte picked up some paperwork.  “She just wants to do a physical. It can wait a little longer.”

 

“Actually….”

 

Charlotte looked up and narrowed her eyes at the other woman.  “That’s not what she wants to see me about?”   
  


Li shook her head.  “There was an accident involving a ladder, a shelving unit, and a forklift.”

 

Charlotte was immediately on her feet.  “Was anyone hurt?”

 

Xia winced.  “Hawkins.”

 

Charlotte stopped short and looked at the other woman.  “Why….”

 

“He’s seventy-five percent of all our non-battle injuries.”

 

Charlotte snaps her fingers.  “That’s how,” she murmured to herself as she takes off at a brisk pace towards the medical wing.  

 

By the time she got there, it was obvious that Bevis had already been through the narrative a few times, but still couldn’t believe it.  “Walk me through it one more time.”

 

There was a sigh.  “I was driving the forklift, trying to load the food supplies onto the shelves.  The ladder fell into my path, caught up under the forklift and tipped it over.”

 

Charlotte moved the curtain and stared at the young man sitting on the medical bed.  “You’re Curt Hawkins.”

 

The man stared blankly at Charlotte and simply nodded.  Dr. Bevis smiled at her. “Glad you’re finally here, Commander.  Hawkins only needs a few stitches and then I can take care of you!”

 

Charlotte’s eyes narrow.  “Stow the excitement. I’m only here to check on Hawkins, and then it’s back to work.”

 

Bevis shakes her head.  “No, I don’t think so. You look like you haven’t slept in days.  Go see Sane if you feel like you can’t wait around for me. She can at least give you a sleep aid.”

 

Charlotte shakes her head.  “I don’t have time to take a break.”  

 

She turns to look at Hawkins.  “You good?”

 

He nods, still a little dumbstruck that the Commander would come down to check on him, especially when he’s in the medical ward more than he’s in his own bunk.  Charlotte smiles at him. “Maybe lay off the forklift for a while, yeah?”

 

 He nods, and Charlotte is about to say something else when she sees Dr. Sane approaching out of the corner of her eye.  “And that is my cue. Hawkins, rest up. Listen to Bevis and take it easy.” She turns and hurries out of the medical wing, hoping that she had ducked them for a little while longer.  She honestly didn’t have time to sleep longer than the few hours she was already getting.

 

Things were still piling up, they were still losing ground, resources were being burned through and her people were dying.  None of that was positive. And she wouldn’t let herself take a break until she was back in the black in the ledger.  

 

She made it back to her office and closed the door.  She needed a few seconds to get her breath back. It seemed in the last day or two she had been running a sprint with no end in sight and she needed a second to just sit and process.  She closed her eyes as she leaned back in the chair.

 

She didn’t know how long she was like that, but her head jerked up and her eyes dragged themselves open when someone slammed a hand down on her desk.

 

Charlotte blinked and looked at Owens, then down to his hand and the paper that was under his fingers.   “Don’t you knock!?”

 

He shakes his head.  “Not when it comes to this.  Martinez’s ISAC node just activated.  She’s nearby.”

 

Charlotte grabbed the piece of paper out from under his palm.  This was good news. Possibly the best she was going to hear for a while.  Bayley Martinez, one of three files squirreled away in Arn’s safe, had just activated.  That meant that there might still be hope if only she could reach Martinez first before any of the other factions got to her.  Or before she decided that going rogue was much more lucrative. A smile pulled its way across her face as she looked up at Kevin.  “Make sure you get me in touch with her. I don’t care how just get her on the comms. We need her on our side if we want to even come close to standing a chance.”

 

Owens nodded and left the room as Charlotte pulled those three files out and opened them up.   _ Martinez.  Banks. Lynch.  Find them. They’re the key. _

  
  
  
  


_______________

  
  


Charlotte had fallen asleep at her desk again.  Her hand wrapped protectively around the note from Arn about the other three agents.  It had become her lifeline in the storm, the one thing that was keeping her from losing all hope with each passing day where the reports were getting worse.  

 

It had been almost two weeks since Martinez went active and they still hadn’t been able to get in touch with her.  What had once been a spark of hope was now fizzling out into barely an ember of a dream. Martinez had been a nice thought.  She was Air Force, something that Charlotte was sure would help them work together easily. And she was highly trained according to her file, which would have been a tremendous asset. 

 

But she was radio silent, for whatever reason.  Maybe Charlotte had been too late. Maybe Martinez was already rogue and didn’t care about letting other agents find her.  Maybe she was the one killing all of the agents in the city.

 

The door to the office banged open, startling Charlotte awake.  Kevin stood in the doorway. “We finally got her.”

 

Charlotte didn’t hesitate as she ran towards the radio room and grabbed the mic.   “Agent Martinez? My name is Lieutenant Flair, I’ve been hoping to talk to you for a few days now.”


	20. A Gauntlet - Sasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha Banks begins the process of learning about her new, and highly dangerous, enemy.

Sasha Banks was fuming, or ‘still’ fuming.

 

She’d had a golden opportunity at the party a few nights ago. She might have gotten two high-level targets in one night, maybe even three. The thought still infuriated her, THREE Division agents removed from the board in one night, and it had all been pissed away. Not by Sasha, but by someone else. And she had a theory whom.

 

Sasha kept her ear to the street and had several people like Shad and JTG feeding her information and rumors, she’d heard of Straight Fire. When she first heard the whispers she’d dismissed them as the kind of urban legend that scared people might cook up to comfort themselves. But the rumors hadn’t stopped, and she’d encountered more than a few of the sites marked not only by dead Demons but the crude rendering of Brigid’s knot. Even Sasha had to admit that, in some form, Straight Fire existed.

 

Which was not to say that Sasha was impressed. Not at all. In fact, she was thoroughly UNimpressed. Whatever else she was, Sasha was a thorough and efficient human being. What she did, she did very well and without any need to make unnecessary noise about it. Sasha’s strikes used the EXACT amount of force and material needed to accomplish her goal, and nothing more. Not so with Straight Fire.

 

Whomever they were, they seemed to revel in clumsy overkill. Perhaps there was some value to the mystique of ‘Straight Fire’ in this, but Sasha still found it pathetic. The only impression she got from it was of an insecure individual or group that had to scream at the top of their lungs simply to be noticed. Sasha needed no theatrics to leave her mark.

 

As she was proving today.

 

Sasha knew, as all professionals did, that skills we’re things that couldn't be taken for granted. If you wanted to be good at something you had to work very hard. But if you wanted to STAY good at something, it took just as much work. In her previous life as a PMC, Sasha could have justly claimed to be one of the five or six best snipers in the world. She wasn’t quite as good now as she had been then, but she was still one of the best. And she meant to stay that way, which, in turn, meant practice.

 

Sasha was standing in what had once been a conference room in an office highrise in downtown Chicago. Like the rest of the building, it had long since been ransacked but it afforded her a perfect view of her ‘practice’ for the day. 

 

Eight stories down and about six blocks away stood a group of five people. Three men and two women, they had the unmistakable look of Demons. Not only were they all armed, but they had the war paint favored by several Demon groups in the area. In other words, they were fair game. Sasha would have preferred to be hunting other Division agents, but that wasn’t always an option.

 

Anyone who had ever fired a weapon would tell you that, if accuracy was important, you fired prone. Failing that, you crouched. Trying to do this kind of long-range precision work freehand was absurd and unnecessarily difficult. 

 

Unless you were trying to challenge yourself. 

 

Sasha squinted her dominant eye almost imperceptibly as she slowly blew out her breath. You never pulled a trigger, you squeezed. Sasha did, and her beloved SRS rocked in her arms as she watched one of the women fall in her scope. Quick as a thought, Sasha worked the bolt on her rifle, centered her crosshairs on another target, and fired. The second demon was falling to the ground before the others seemed to be fully aware of their peril.

 

When, three shots later, the rest of the demons were dead, Sasha was frowning. She’d put the group down, but she’d hit the final demon between the shoulder blades as the woman had run. She’d meant to hit her in the back of the head, only a difference of a few inches but it was still unacceptable to Sasha Banks. She’d need to get more work in.

 

But first, she had a special project. Sasha made her way down to the street and, after assuring herself the coast was clear, set to work. She dragged the bodies into a heap and then picked up one of their rifles. Checking its magazine to assure herself it was full, she proceeded to empty it into the pile of bodies. The waste of ammunition annoyed her, but it was necessary. After she’d done this, Sasha used her knife to carve her own Brigid’s knot into a nearby door frame. 

 

Sasha finished up by setting the pile of bodies aflame before leaving the area. To the casual observer, it would appear like any of the other Straight Fire scenes across downtown. But Sasha wasn’t prepared to rely on only this one bit of bait. She was hoping to draw Straight Fire, whoever they were, out and she would need to make damned sure she had their attention. So Sasha set off in search of more targets, more practice.

 

It wasn’t hard to find targets, not in downtown. There was still a large civilian population but it was a safe bet that if a group of people was wandering the streets and making no effort to conceal themselves, they were probably the bad guys. Which was why Sasha was confident that the present group she’d found would make for good shooting practice. 

  
These weren’t demon’s however. This was immediately apparent by their appearance. They were more organized and less concerned about appearing frightening than would be the case with the other group. Given where they were, this all but guaranteed that they were with the administration. Not that it mattered much to Sasha, targets were targets. 

 

There were nine of them marching along the street, more than she could reasonably hope to get before they scattered. But she wouldn’t have to worry about it in this case, they were obviously escorting the large box truck driving slowly along between them. Given this behavior, Sasha assumed that they were out scavenging. All the better since this was her opportunity. 

  
Rather than worry about trying to shoot each target, Sasha simply chambered a single round of incendiary ammunition from one of her vest pouches. Taking careful aim, she centered her crosshairs on the large gas tank hanging below the box of the truck. A tiny smile touched her face as she exhaled and squeezed the trigger. The resulting explosion was everything she could have hoped for. Sasha didn’t admire it however, instead, she slapped a fresh magazine into her rifle and scanned the scene for survivors. She ended up having to put down five men, but she was happier with her shooting this time.

 

Sasha hurried through her ‘Straight Fire’ routine this time. This was because the Administration was much more likely to have been monitoring their troops than any of the Demon groups. It was possible that reinforcements might be on their way so Sasha contented herself with using a can of spray paint to mark a door with Brigid’s knot. 

 

As she hurried away from the area, Sasha was struggling to put herself in the headspace of the mysterious ‘Straight Fire’. Sasha was a sniper, she was happiest when she was dispensing death from a great ways away without her target ever knowing it was coming. If she was under direct threat, it usually meant something had gone wrong. Sasha was skilled enough to fight her way out of most such situations but she still preferred to avoid them.

 

But it seemed the mysterious Straight Fire operated in an opposite faction. The popular opinion on the street seemed to be that Straight Fire was one person. Sasha doubted this very much, for two reasons. One, the enormous expenditure of resources at each attack. But second, and more importantly, it was more plausible to her that a group of people would take on some of the targets that had been hit. If Straight Fire was a single person, then they were reckless to the point of having a deathwish. But more than that they were undeniably dangerous.

 

The idea that one person would take on those situations, situations that Sasha herself would refuse, was slightly unsettling. And Sasha Banks seldom felt unsettled. These thoughts only reinforced her sense of urgency on her current project. She needed to learn more about this potential problem and soon. If for no other reason than that she might have a new threat on her hands.

 

Sasha spent the rest of her day laying her trail of breadcrumbs for Straight Fire to follow. She took down two more groups of demons, both in the act of looting and pillaging. Ten men and women in total, ten bullets to the skull. Better, but she was still smarting over her miss earlier in the day. She knew she’d need to make many more shots before she started to feel better about it. Perfection wasn’t something Sasha simply aspired to, she demanded it of herself.

 

This was why Sasha was delighted for another opportunity to practice. As she prowled along the rooftops she spotted a man standing alone in the mouth of an alley. Given that he wasn’t doing anything Sasha was prepared to simply ignore him as a civilian. But to be sure, she passed over him with her scope. She was glad she did because she saw face paint and the improvised spiked shoulder guards. He was a demon. 

 

It was strange to see a demon on his own, they were pack animals. It was doubly strange to see a demon standing around looking nervous. The whole situation was off. Sasha was curious about what he might be doing but decided that it ultimately didn’t matter. Whatever he was doing, he was a demon, and it wouldn’t be good for others. So Sasha didn’t hesitate to kneel, raise her rifle, and fire. One-shot, one kill.

 

Sasha didn’t bother trying to pass this off on Straight Fire, it wasn’t the sort of thing they did anyway. But she did make her way down to the street, she’d seen a pharmacy and she wanted to check it out. Sasha had to support herself somehow, she got most of what she needed in her trades with Shad, JTG, and Io. But she supplemented this with her own efforts. It was true that downtown had been thoroughly picked over but there was always the chance she might find something useful. 

 

Besides, the item she was thinking of specifically wouldn’t be a high priority for almost anyone else.  

 

After she’d slung her rifle, Sasha drew MP5K and darted out of the building she’d been standing on. She made a beeline toward the store and, after checking the door for traps, stepped inside. The interior was dim, but plenty of light was coming in through broken windows. As she’d suspected, the place looked like it had been nearly emptied. Certainly, she wouldn’t find any food or medicine so she ignored these aisles.

 

Instead, she moved cautiously toward what had once been the cosmetics section. This was even messier than the rest of the place, someone had clearly smashed it up just to smash it. Makeup was dumped and smeared everywhere but Sasha was encouraged to see just how much was left. Bypassing this she made her way back toward where the haircare products had been stocked. It was very picked over but Sasha felt a tiny tug at the corner of her mouth when she saw what she’d been hoping to see.

 

A box of magenta hair coloring. 

 

She had just pocketed it when she stiffened. Whirling around with her MP5K up, she scanned the store. She’d heard a shifting sound from nearby and it wasn’t the sort made by debris settling. Crouching, Sasha considered the possibility that she’d made a mistake coming here. Could this have been a trap? But she dismissed this, if it was they would have hit her hard and fast. But that didn’t mean someone wasn’t stalking her. Then she heard the sound again, it was coming from the back of the store.

 

Sasha wasn’t going to take any chances. She took a grenade from her pack strap and was preparing to drop it when a voice interrupted her. 

 

“ _Wait!”_ Sasha held the explosive as she realized whoever was speaking to her was using the store’s intercom. Ducking behind a counter, Sasha looked around but didn’t answer. There was a pause before the voice spoke again.

“ _We live here, we’ve locked ourselves in the back. We saw you on the cameras...you...you aren’t with the Demons are you?”_

 

Sasha shook her head, not speaking as she replaced her grenade and raised her MP5K. She was edging backward out of the store slowly, scanning the area around her. She didn’t trust the situation.

 

“ _Are you with the JTF?”_ the voice asked as Sasha neared the exit. Sasha shook her head, she wasn’t going to speak since she didn’t want to give away any more about herself than she had to. Instead, she looked at the floor and bent down to pick up a tube of lipstick. Making sure to avoid the broken windows, Sasha moved to a blank stretch of wall and used the makeup to write a simple message. 

 

“ _Straight Fire”_

 

She left the store then and made her way to the body of the man she’d killed. She rifled his pockets and took his weapons and ammo. They’d be useful next time she needed to trade, he also had some food and money on him. Not a bad haul, though the addition of another long arm meant that she would probably have to head back to her base. But the more she thought about this, the more she concluded it was probably for the best.

 

Sasha had gotten in her shooting practice, she wasn’t happy about it but she would go out again soon to assuage her annoyance. And if, in the process of doing so, she put down more of the rabid dogs who were tearing at the carcass of the city? So much the better. Sasha was happy to act and judge, jury, and executioner.

 

More importantly, though, Sasha had laid her bait. She was still annoyed by what had happened at the party, her missed opportunities there. But now she’d taken steps to correct it. She had to concede that she didn’t ‘know’ that the mysterious Straight Fire, had been responsible. But she’d analyzed the available information, and she felt confident in her conclusion. And Sasha was, as a rule, very rarely wrong. 

 

Sasha had laid her bait, now all she had to do was wait. If Straight Fire didn’t show to these lures, Sasha would go out and lay more. And she would keep doing this until they showed themselves. She would observe and analyze Straight Fire. It was even remotely possible that Sasha might find a new ally out of this process. 

 

But there was also the possibility she’d be confirmed in the other possibility. That she would gaze on the face of a dangerous enemy through her scope. If that was the case she knew exactly what she would need to do.

 

And she would not hesitate.

 

Sasha was, once again, lying in ambush for her prey.

 

But this time was different. Sasha enjoyed her hunting, enjoyed taking the most dangerous prey possible (she’d collected a pair of new Division watches in recent days) but today was special. If all went to plan she would lure in her most dangerous quarry. 

 

Straight Fire.

 

It had been just over two weeks since she’d begun laying bread crumbs for the other woman. And Sasha had confirmed that Straight Fire was a lone woman. She’d simply staked out several of her carefully staged sights until someone had shown. Many people had, but these had mostly been scavengers. But her patience had eventually been rewarded. 

 

Sasha had been lying prone on a fire escape, her hair concealed under a hood, staring intently through her scope. She’d been waiting for almost three hours and was just thinking of leaving when sudden motion had captured her attention. 

 

A flash of orange. If Sasha didn’t completely trust her in vision she might have thought she’d imagined it. But then she saw it again, moving across behind a pair of parked cars. She adjusted her scope and peered intently toward the cover until...out had stepped a woman. Sasha was a hyper-rational human being, not given to sentimentality or theatrics. She found them to be beneath her and crutch for those incapable of executing professionally.

 

Yet, the woman in her scope seemed to perfectly fit the moniker. If Sasha had been forced to imagine what Straight Fire would look like as a woman, she’d have come up with something close to the person she was looking at. 

 

The woman wasn’t tall, though she would be taller than Sasha herself. She was wearing a jacket, grey jeans, boots, and beanie that didn’t hide the long strands of brilliantly orange-red hair spilling down her shoulders. Sasha noted these details automatically, but it was others that truly drew her attention.

 

The first was how she moved. In downtown Chicago, one drew attention at one’s own great peril. Excessive noise or even simply moving out of cover was a sure way to attract predators. Roving patrols from the Administration, Demon gangs, looters, or even desperate civilians. There was never a shortage of people willing to kill you. Yet this woman strode right down the middle of the street, head high, and eyes bright. She walked as though she owned the street and expected everyone around her to acknowledge this as a simple fact. 

 

This was enough to make Sasha’s lip curl in contempt. It was a great point of pride to her that her movements were as nearly undetectable as could be. She took great pains to ensure this as it meant her life if she didn’t. Yet here came this arrogant girl who wasn’t even bothering to find cover as she moved. For half a moment, she was tempted to simply shoot the other woman as an abject lesson in basic caution. But she didn’t.

 

She stayed her hand because there was something very contradictory about the other woman. She cautioned herself that, despite her instinct, this still might not be Straight Fire. Even if not, Sasha now had enough information to consider her a real threat. She’d gleaned this not just because her target was carrying an M&P10, but how she held it.

 

It wouldn’t be readily apparent to the untrained eye, but Sasha gleaned a treasure trove of knowledge by focusing on the other woman’s hands. The way she carried her rifle made clear that she’d received some training in handling a weapon. The M&P10 had a worn look but was also well maintained, this wasn’t someone who’d just been lucky enough to come upon a good gun. Sasha would be very surprised to learn that this woman wasn’t a deadly gunfighter.

 

Yet this made her behavior even more puzzling. Sasha had panned up to note the alert way the other woman’s eyes scanned the area around her, yet on the way she’d noticed the woman was speaking. Focusing in on her mouth and throat Sasha concluded that no, in fact, she was singing. Sasha was obviously too far away to hear exactly what, but this again was more evidence of this strange woman’s carelessness. 

 

Sasha continued her silent observation as the woman neared the bait that had been left for her. When she finally made the turn off the street to examine what had brought her here, Sasha noted the curiously oversized backpack she wore. It couldn't be comfortable or practical to move in something that big, yet here this woman was...singing. Sasha’s finger twitched ever so slightly but now she wasn’t shooting simply out of curiosity.

 

Sasha had gleaned several useful data points from her observations that day. She’d more or less confirmed the other woman’s identity. She’d done this by watching the look of anger and dismay that flashed across her face when she had looked at the Brigid’s knot that Sasha had spray-painted on the ground. Sasha wasn’t the best at reading people’s emotions but it was crystal clear that Straight Fire was beyond annoyed.

 

She filed this away as a potential weakness, resolving to test a hypothesis she’d just formed. This, plus the fact that she now knew what Straight Fire looked like, had been enough to satisfy Sasha for the day. She’d left and had begun planning her next moves.

 

Over the next days, Sasha had stepped up her attacks on Demon and Administration groups. Each time, she’d left a spray paint version of Brigid’s knot, but had made sure to render them as crudely as possible. A deliberate insult that, if she was correct in her theory, would draw a definite response from the other woman if she saw them. As before, most of the sights simply hadn’t yielded anything...but a few had. And from these, Sasha had continued to refine her picture of her prey.

 

Straight Fire was reckless, there was no doubt of this. In fact, Sasha privately wondered at the other woman’s underlying intelligence. Despite this, she’d seen evidence of just how dangerous her target could be as well. Not that this impressed Sasha unduly. An animal could be physically dangerous, but this would never be enough to threaten an intellect like Sasha’s in and of itself. 

 

The ease with which she was manipulating the other woman was evidence of this. Both times she’d caught Straight Fire in one of her snares (though the other woman didn’t know this) she’d seen the obvious annoyance on the red head’s face. The roughly scrawled renditions of Brigid’s knot clearly vexed her. All TOO easy to manipulate.

 

Sasha’s opinion of Straight Fire being as low as it was, part of her wondered why she was devoting this much time hunting her. She didn’t seem to be much more than an unusually well trained, blundering thug. A thug that seemed to target other thugs, but a thug nonetheless. She’d even been considering abandoning the project until another appearance by Straight Fire. It was then that Sasha noticed something that banished all thoughts of forgetting about Straight Fire.

 

She’d been privately rolling her eyes as she watched the other woman angrily kick some debris as she looked down at Sasha’s crude rendition of Brigid’s Knot. In doing so, her jacket had slipped down her left shoulder to reveal...an ISAC node. Sasha had sucked in a breath as she gripped her rifle more tightly. 

 

Straight Fire was a Division Agent?

 

Given the way the redhead conducted herself, Sasha found this hard to credit. Obviously, no one agent (other than the local and regional commanders) knew much, if anything, about the makeup of their units. But Sasha was still incredulous that anyone selected for the organization could be as clumsy as Straight Fire seemed to be.

 

It actually offended her, having previously thought of the Division as an elite. But apparently, anyone could make it in. Sasha had never been much for ‘unit cohesion’ nor had she ever put much emphasis on esprit de corps, but being a Division Agent was one of the few genuine individual accomplishments in her life that she felt was hers alone. As such, she supposed she’d assumed the organization would take it’s recruiting as seriously as Sasha took being a part of it.

 

Her eyes tightened as she glared through her scope. The temptation to pull the trigger surging again.

 

But that had been several days ago, and Sasha had held herself in check. This was because of a simple, and fundamental, fact of her character. Sasha was a creature of intellect and not emotion. As annoyed as she was by the revelation that Straight Fire was an agent, Sasha still didn’t have the key data points she wanted. Namely, if the redhead could be a useful tool in the coming war or if she’d be a dangerous enemy.

 

Sasha knew exactly what she needed to do in the second case. She was still unclear what the other might mean. 

 

In order to determine this, however, Sasha had arranged for a test. She would see what Straight Fire was made of today. If the other woman passed, well, then Sasha would have a better grasp on her skill level AND would be able to determine what she would have to do. If she failed, or survived but demonstrated she was a threat, then the story of Straight Fire ended here.

 

Simple.

 

Sasha was set up on the ninth story of an apartment high rise. It was a nearly perfect shooting position for her. Barring some astronomically unlikely stroke of luck, it would be impossible for anyone to determine which window she might be shooting from. Sasha had the impression that Straight Fire’s tactical sense dramatically eclipsed her intellect, so she was also pleased to be in a building with so many exits. If she had to intervene she would be well situated to do so.

 

Sasha continued to observe, unbeknownst to anyone else, as the other players in her drama arrived. Sasha had used Shad and JTG to tip off a local Demon gang that Straight Fire would be here today. Of course, there was always the risk that the redhead might not show, so Sasha had seen to that as well. There were several billboards located on top of buildings in the area, and Sasha had been busy with them over the last few nights. 

 

Now the moment was nearly here. 

 

Sasha watched as the Demons arranged themselves into position to ambush and when she judged they’d hidden themselves, she hit a button on a remote detonator she had resting beside her. The air was suddenly rent with the sounds of a large explosion. Sasha had planted a bomb in a car on the street far below, but this was mostly just for noise and smoke. As flames lept into the air below, she moved the scope of her rifle to see the real pay off from her move.

 

She could see three of the billboards she’d modified from where she lay in wait. They were all LED models, but they’d long since lost power. This didn’t matter as Sasha didn’t need them to light up, she’d simply sprayed huge versions of Brigid’s knot on each one with highly flammable spray paint. In addition to the large bomb, her detonator had triggered smaller devices on the signs. The effect was to suddenly create several large flaming versions of the knot that would be clearly visible for many blocks. Even if Straight Fire herself didn’t see them, Sasha had no doubt she’d hear about them. But just to be sure, she’d also set up a series of flares that would send towers of red smoke high into the air.

 

Sasha’s observations of Straight Fire all told her one thing, these combined signs would represent an intolerable provocation to the other woman. Sasha hadn’t selected this location at random. She’d carefully made note of every likely Straight Fire appearance that she knew of and had calculated the area most likely to be the other woman’s home base. Her flares were set up in a park located near the center of the area she guessed Straight Fire was based in.

 

Was it possible that the other woman still might not show? Yes. But Sasha had put everything she could in her favor. Now all she had to do was sit back and wait. A spider crouching on her web, waiting for the fly.

 

That had been the plan at least. But it seemed Straight Fire had ideas of her own.

 

Sasha waited for an hour, so did the Demons. No Straight Fire. The flares and the signs had long since burnt out when the Demons finally gave up in disgust. Emerging from their hiding places they looked disgusted. Sasha couldn’t hear them but she did not doubt that they were complaining loudly as they formed a rough circle. She continued to watch as some kind of argument developed, even from her vantage point Sasha could tell that they were blaming each other for time wasted.

 

Sasha frowned as the argument grew more and more heated, the men crowding together to shout at each other.

 

That was how they died. 

 

There had been no fewer than eighteen heavily armed Demons shouting at each other in a rough circle in the middle of the street. A sudden motion drew Sasha’s attention through the scope but she didn’t have time to trace it as a huge pool of fire suddenly erupted amidst the arguing Demons. If she had to guess she thought she’d probably just seen some kind of improvised incendiary device.

 

Needless to say, the Demons panicked. But before they could do more, another patch of flames erupted. As men fell to the ground, burning to death, Sasha saw several others who appeared to get suddenly jerked backward. These weren’t the result of any kind of explosive, they’d clearly been hit by gunfire. The Demons woke up to their peril too late, by the time they began returning fire, there were less than ten of them. These were obviously shaken, understandable given that their comrades were being immolated around them. 

 

It was all over in less than two minutes. And Sasha watched, fascinated as Straight Fire herself emerged from the building that the gunfire had been coming from. She marched boldly out onto the street, seemingly unconcerned by the still-burning corpses around her. Sasha continued to watch as she administered the coup de grace to several Demons though, she noted, never to those that were burning. Through the scope, Sasha could see that the other woman was angry.

 

“Good,” Sasha muttered out loud as she took aim. Exhaling very slowly, Sasha squeezed her trigger. Her rifle jerked and there was a ‘chunk’ sound as the round exited the muzzle. 

 

Straight Fire jerked as the incendiary round struck a wall near her. This was a final message from Sasha. The bullet struck the center of one of the Brigid Knots that Sasha had put on the side of a bus shelter. She’d made sure to use a LOT of paint on this one in particular before going over it with a layer of gasoline, and she was rewarded as the round was enough to set the symbol on fire. A flaming Brigid’s Knot leaping to life.

 

Sasha was prepared to move, as she always did after firing, but she indulged for one moment. Peeking through her scope, she watched as Straight Fire flinched into cover at the sound of the shot hitting the wall. But when the other woman realized what had just happened, Sasha was disconcerted when her eyes seemed to find Sasha’s exact position. It was impossible that she could know where Sasha was, but it certainly looked as though Straight Fire were looking directly at her in the scope.

 

The redhead mouthed something with narrowed eyes before turning and walking, ostentatiously out of cover, in the other direction. This left Sasha to lower her rifle slowly as she considered what she’d just seen.

 

“Very well,” was all she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Carp! 1779 hits! I don't think I'm out of line in speaking for LL when I say you guys have floored us! I never expected this kind of response early on and I am tremendously grateful and humbled by it! 
> 
> Keep those lovely comments, kudos, and bookmarks coming in!
> 
> What did everyone think of today's chapter? I trust we've all realized who Sasha is now headed toward a confrontation with...but who do you think will win?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	21. When the Hunted Becomes the Hunter  -  Becky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone has been leaving new marks in Becky's territory, and now she's on the hunt to find out who.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are the most amazing readers. Seriously, the amount of love you are showing this story is beyond words. I couldn't ask for a better group of readers! Thank you for your support, your comments, kudos and bookmarks. I know they make my day, and I'd take a guess that AP feels the same. 
> 
> here's a link to the song that Becky is singing in this chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzXswoAUi0U
> 
>  
> 
> ________________________

Becky knelt by yet another one of the crudely drawn Brigid’s knots that she most certainly did not create.  There didn’t seem to be any passion behind it, no feeling or greater meaning. It was just scribbled quickly and that was that.  “At least it’s accurate,” Becky grumbled to herself as she quickly collected whatever gear was left on the Demon bodies before she stood and studied her surroundings.  

 

“Bleedin’ gowl.  No idea what they’re doin’, shootin’ people like this and then leavin’ the mark.  It’s like they don’t even understand what I’m tryin ta do here.”

 

She sighs and turns, opening up the paper map she carries with her.  She marks this new location with a different color pen than the buildings she has marked.  So far, there were at least three that she found with these poorly drawn knots. “Fookin’ copy cats,” she said as she kicked at an empty soda can lying in the street.  “When I get my hands on ya, it’s over.”

 

The new knots had been popping up steadily over the last few days as far as Becky could tell.  It wasn’t the first time that she had a copycat to deal with, but this was the first group that was taking her longer than a day to find and put a stop to.  

 

Copycats were dangerous for Becky.  Well maybe not to Becky personally, but they were absolutely a danger to Straight Fire’s reputation.  Straight Fire was built on the foundation that she was there to help people, that the buildings she marked were safe places for people who couldn’t fight for themselves.  To have buildings marked that she didn’t know about meant there was a possibility of leaving someone alone and vulnerable, waiting for her help that would never come. And while the knots worked to keep certain factions away, it wasn’t a guarantee.  Especially as she gained more notoriety.   

 

There were always faction members trying to take her out to help raise their standing within their faction.  They figured if they could take out Straight Fire, then their leader would automatically reward them. Which left all of her marked buildings open to attack.

 

Which is why she needed to find these copycats and put a stop to them.  They were pushing further and further away from her home base at the bar.  They were marking buildings outside of her usual hunting grounds, which meant that she was being stretched thin, unable to assist anyone who might need it.

 

“ _ Straight Fire, are you there? _ ”

 

Becky sighs, “Yeah Storm, I’m here.”

 

There was a pause.  “ _ Have you seen the new building that popped up to the South East? _ ”

 

Becky cursed.  “Where exactly?”

 

Toni relayed a new address to Becky that was another four blocks South East of where she was currently standing.  She was already a good eleven blocks from her bar, which was about three blocks outside of her usual hunting ground.  This new building would stretch her ability to protect the people out here to the limit.

 

Becky sighed as she adjusted her backpack and started making her way towards the new location.  Normally she would walk with a little more subtlety, but if any of the factions had lookouts in the area, she wanted them to know that she was still here and still willing to fight.  So instead of using the buildings for cover like she normally did, Becky strolled right down the middle of the street, her rifle gripped loosely in her hands.

 

“Óró, sé do bheatha 'bhaile,

Óró, sé do bheatha 'bhaile,

Óró, sé do bheatha 'bhaile

Anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh” 

 

Becky kept her eyes up and moving around the area as she walked, the Irish folk song ringing loud in the otherwise silent street.  She knew that this style of hunting was best used when she knew that the prey was nearby and searching for her. Calling attention to herself in those situations was always easiest because the idiots usually tripped over themselves to get at her, fully believing that they had the element of surprise.  And that overzealousness led to mistakes that she capitalized on, killing them before they even knew what hit them.  

 

Now though... now was a different story.  These markings almost seemed to be taunting her, testing her.  And if that was the case, it automatically put Becky on the defensive and about three steps behind whoever these people were.  Being so brazen, so out in the open was a risk. But it was one she needed to take. She needed whoever was marking these buildings to know that she wasn’t rattled in the slightest.  

 

So down the middle of the street, she strolled, her voice rising with each emboldened step that she took.  That is until she came to the building that Toni had directed her to.  

 

“The fookin’ audacity!  Look at that disrespect fer everythin’ I’m out here doin’!  Spray paint!? They ‘ave got ta be kiddin’ me!”

 

Becky knelt next to the crudely painted mark.  She reached out to touch it, hoping that it would still be wet and the guilty party still in the area.  Unfortunately for Becky, that wasn’t the case. This mark appeared to be a few days old… older than some of the others she had been finding.  Which could only mean that this had been going on longer than she had originally thought.  

 

Becky sighed and marked this one on the map as well, taking a second to make some mental calculations at how long it would take her to get out this far.  She cursed to herself as she reached into the pack and pulled out a radio. Making sure that it was keyed into the right frequency, she left it inside and started making her way back to her bar. 

 

The radios were a new occurrence.  Most of her marks were within a radius close enough to her bar that she could be there within minutes no matter where she was scavenging or hunting.  But with all of these new buildings popping up further and further away… she had needed to come up with a way for the people taking shelter in them to contact her if they had to.  So she had scrounged together as many radios as she could find, marked them with a knot and started leaving them in the buildings that were the furthest away from her home base.  

 

Right now though she needed to head back to the bar and take an inventory of all the supplies that she had in the storeroom.  With her territory expanding at such a rate, Becky knew it was only a matter of time before more people starting showing up looking for assistance.  The last thing she needed was to run out of supplies and be forced to turn people away. That was an absolute last resort in her mind, so even if it meant doubling raids on known supply depots, she would do it.

 

Becky did a quick search around the area, in case Toni had missed any more of the marks before she started her walk back North.  If she didn’t find this copycat soon, it would mean a lot of work in her near future. For both her and her network. Becky heaved a sigh, readjusted her pack and started thinking about locations she could hit for supplies.

  
  


_________________

  
  


Becky looked down at the list of supplies she currently had in her stock rooms.  Even with using the three old walk-in freezers in the basement, and the two large refrigerators in the kitchen, she still wouldn’t have enough food to last until the end of the month.  Especially with how many more people had been showing up at the bar looking for help, or at the very least supplies. 

 

She shifted her gaze to the map that was on the table next to her and circled a few locations that might still have supplies.  It would be nice to be optimistic and say that a raid on one of the locations would be enough for her, but she preferred to err on the side of caution.  Which meant she would need to hit all of them to even make a dent in what was required for her to keep on hand.

 

Looking at the radio that was sitting on the end of the table, Becky reached over and toyed with the frequency.  She hated calling in a favor, particularly with this group since they were already under so much pressure. But just shy of going to the JTF for help, Becky really didn’t see another way to make sure she had what she needed.  The people in her territory, Straight Fire’s people…  _ her _ people came first.  No questions asked.  

 

And since the copy cat was forcing her hand by creating a bigger territory for her, well then Becky had to be prepared.  She nodded once to herself and pressed the transmit button. “I need supplies.”

 

“ _ Well hello to you too.” _

 

Becky shook her head as a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.  “Yer right, I’m sorry. Good mornin. I need supplies.”

 

There was a chuckle at the other end as the woman responded.  “ _ Don’t you always?  By the way, you still owe us for moving that family out of the hot zone.” _

 

“You know I’m good fer it,” she grumbled into the receiver.  “It’s just takin me a little longer because of some… ah…. I’m not quite sure how ta explain it.”

 

“ _ The new marks that aren’t yours?  We’re aware of what’s going on. Doesn’t mean we don’t need what you promised us in return.” _

 

Becky glared down at the radio.  “Ya drive a hard bargain, but I have what you were askin fer the last time.  Just haven’t had a chance ta bring it to ya. What would ya want fer whatever food and clothin you could give me?”

 

The smile on the woman’s face was obvious in her voice.  “ _ The usual should do.  Father should be able to stop by later today if you have everything.” _

 

Becky thinks about it for a few seconds.  “Yeah, I have the guns you lot were askin for.  I also have the books, DVDs, and CDs you lot are usually askin after.  I even found some medicine that I don’t need that I’ll toss in just ‘cause I like ya.”   
  
“ _ Good.  Like I said, Father should be by later this afternoon with a few members as escorts.  I’ll make sure they bring whatever food, clothes, and water I have on hand.” _

 

The radio clicks off, leaving Becky sitting alone in her bar.  She pulls the inventory closer and makes a few notations in the margins, and then looks to the map.  If the supplies were coming in a few hours, the first location she needed to hit should be closer. That way she could facilitate the exchange this time with the Father instead of just leaving the supplies in the back like she had been the last few times.  

 

Becky stood and stretched.  If it was going to be a few hours until her supplies got there, Becky figured she could go upstairs and get at least an hour of sleep.  Chasing this copycat and keeping the bar stocked was starting to wear on her. Her patrols have extended close to ten blocks, which added a few hours to her daily check-ins.  Becky reached down to the table, grabbed the rifle from where she had leaned it against the booth and turned to head up the stairs.  

 

She stopped as a large explosion rocked the area.  It wasn’t all that close to the bar, but it was close enough to be within her territory.  Becky’s head hung and her shoulders slumped as she turned around and walked down to the lab she had set up in the basement of the bar.  She leaned her rifle up against the desk and flipped a switch, turning on the bank of security cameras she had set up around the perimeter of the bar.  

 

“Fuckin hell.  Are they bloody fuckin insane!?”

 

She focused on one of the cameras that were faced to the East, an area that Becky knew held a park and a few high-rise apartment buildings.  But that wasn’t what had caught her attention. No, that would be the several large, flaming knots that were emblazoned on billboards that were on top of the buildings.  

 

If this copycat wanted her attention, they had it now for sure.  The new markings could have been them legitimately trying to help the people of the city.  But this move…? There was no way this wasn’t a test, a call out, a challenge.  

 

Becky needed about two seconds to make her decision.  This person wanted Straight Fire? They were going to get Straight Fire.  She grabbed her rifle and her bag from where it was leaning up against the stairs and then she was out the door.  

 

The Father would know how to get in and disarm the traps to get the supplies he needed.  Right now she had some hunting to do.

  
  


__________________

  
  


Becky sighed as she leaned up against the cover she was hiding behind.  The eighteen or so Demons that were trying to ambush her were getting antsy, which is exactly what she wanted.  At first, she had planned to march right in there and start shooting whoever was standing underneath the billboards, but one look at the idiots who had gathered in the area and she knew that they weren’t the ones who had set the trap.  These sorry excuses for human beings looked to have maybe one brain cell between all of them.

 

And coming from her, that was saying something.  

 

Which could only mean that the person who had lit the knots was nearby watching.  That they had set this up as a way to bait her into showing herself by walking right into a trap and possibly dying.  Well, that was rough for them, because Becky had absolutely no intention of doing any such thing.  

 

It was true, she hated waiting around and being patient.  She considered herself more of an action person instead of a tactically minded person.  But when it came to numbers like eighteen to one, she could stand to take a back seat and see what would happen.  

 

So there she sat, taking cover behind an old burned-out van for over an hour.  She kept her ears attuned to what was going on in the street behind her but kept still otherwise.  It wasn’t until she could hear them start to argue, that she turned and looked.  

 

Just like she had hoped, the Demons were starting to congregate in the middle of the street, forming a nice big target for her.  She smiled to herself and slid off her backpack, opening it up and pulling out two canisters and the chem launcher.    
  


She forced herself to wait just a little bit longer until they were standing even closer together.  The time for waiting was over. Becky smiled to herself as she loaded one of the canisters into the chem launcher, took aim and whispered a “fàg an bealach,” before she pulled the trigger.

 

The canister landed a little left of center but did the job nonetheless as it exploded at the feet of several of the Demons, enveloping them in flames.  She loaded the second canister, stuck her tongue out a little as she squinted down the street and took aim. There was a dull  _ whoomp _ sound as she pressed the trigger, sending the second incendiary flying at the now panicking Demons.  

 

Becky pulled her aviators a little bit down her nose as she watched the second explosion of flames.  She nodded to herself, impressed with her accuracy and let a quick “hmm” slip out as she pushed her sunglasses back up her nose.  Becky was quickly back on her feet and moving, her rifle barrel up and aiming at the Demons.  

 

The fires had taken out close to eight of them, which left another possible ten as a threat to her.  Her head swiveled as her barrel did, picking off Demons one at a time. It was chaotic and efficient at the same time, her finger pressing on the trigger to take one down even as her eyes caught movement out of her periphery.  

 

Becky moved easily among the barricades and cars that littered the street.  Staying still long enough for the trigger to be pulled before she was on the move again.  The remaining Demons had gathered their wits long enough to at least try and return fire, but they had failed to move out of the grouping they had been in.  This terrible display of tactics furthered Becky’s belief that these idiots had been baited here just like she had. Didn’t mean she would let them live though.  They were Demons and were therefore guilty of something, so they needed to be put down regardless.

 

Becky pulled the trigger one final time and lowered her rifle as the last Demon fell.  She approached a little more cautiously than usual, but still with determination. She pulled her S&W Shield .40 out of its holster and began putting bullets in between the eyes of the ones that were still alive.  She may not have a problem with putting Demons down, but she wasn’t about to let them suffer, not when there was someone out there who was definitely watching her.  

 

Becky fired a final shot and then looked up at one of the very crudely painted knots on a bus stop in front of her.  To say that she was beyond angry at this point would be an understatement. It was one thing to be dealing with a copycat who didn’t know any better.  It was another to have someone use her marks as a way to ridicule her. It was something completely different that this person, whoever the fuck they were, was using her marks to disrespect her, taunt her, toy with her like she was their puppet on a string, commanded to dance only when they saw fit.  

 

As Becky was caught in her head, seething at the audacity of this person, a single gunshot rang out… shattering the silence.  Becky dove for cover behind a nearby parked car. A gunshot that loud could only be from a sniper rifle and from the sounds of it, it had been aimed in her direction.  But she wasn’t dead yet, which meant…..  _ No, _ she thought.   _ They’re toyin with me even now. _

 

Becky poked her head out from behind her cover and her eyes lowered in absolute disgust.  The mark that had been on the bus shelter was now engulfed in flames with a bullet hole right in the middle.  She did, however, have to take a second to appreciate how difficult of a shot that was. If the bullet had been even an inch to the right, she would have been killed right then.

 

Which somehow only incensed her further.  Someone who was  _ this good _ should not be wasting their time toying with Becky.  It did, however, answer one of the things she had noticed and considered about this shooter.  She had encountered their handiwork before.    
  


Becky’s attention flew to a building a good distance away.  It was the only place that offered a good shooting height and direct line of sight to where she was currently standing.  Which meant that that was where the sniper had been lying in wait for her to walk right into this mess, like a fly into a spiderweb.

 

Becky’s eyes narrowed.  “ Níl mé do puipéad. Tá sé in am a ghearradh ar an teaghráin agus a dhéanann tú rince motherfucker!” she shouted as flipped off the building, more than positive that the sniper had seen it.  

 

She turned and started walking back to her bar.  “If it’s a game they want, then a game they shall get.”

  
  


__________________

  
  


Becky sat in the van she had taken for the raid on this particular gas station.  Usually, she was against using vehicles because they called too much attention to her, and that was saying something.  But in this case, she needed the extra room because this was a truck stop with both gas pumps and an attached diner. And from the looks of it, the power was still on which meant there was a good chance there would still be edible food inside.  

 

The only problem was, this location was currently being held by a group of Demons who seemed to have dug themselves in rather well.  Becky sighed and ran her hands along the steering wheel for a few seconds while she contemplated her attack. What she  _ wanted  _ to do was use one of her explosives on the gas pumps outside and just take the Demons out with a massive explosion.  

 

The only problem with that was it would mean risking the diner and all the food she was there to collect.  And by risk, she really meant it would completely destroy everything. So that was out of the question.  

 

She could attempt a frontal assault, but there were close to fifteen Demons that she could count standing around the location.  And without the use of her explosives, that would make things more difficult.  

 

She could use the back door and sneak in, but then she wouldn’t have enough time to get all the supplies she would need.  

 

She groaned.  Normally she would leave this spot to the Demons and move onto an easier target, especially when she was this tired.  But her connections with the Father only got her so much food and she was running out. Which meant that this was a necessary risk.  

 

She checked her rifle one last time and made sure she had a few extra magazines in her vest before she got out of the truck, slung on her backpack and made her way to the back door of the diner.  Even if she wasn’t going to sneak in and out, she could at least sneak in and attack from the rear, and be in a more defensible location. 

 

Plus she was banking on the Demons outside trying to use the door and getting stuck in a fatal funnel.  She crept to the door, eased it open and slid inside undetected. She made her way around a shelf and ducked behind the front counter, kind of surprised that she hadn’t run into anyone in the kitchen.  But never being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Becky ignored it and aimed at the back of the Demon standing by the front door.

 

She exhaled slowly and pressed the trigger, controlling the recoil and moving the rifle to a new target before the first one had hit the ground.  Just as she had hoped, the guys outside all came running at the door the second they heard the shot and saw their friend fall. Becky leveled the rifle at the door, the barrel staying at chest height as she depressed the trigger and held it. 

 

The fully auto modification she had made to her rifle paid off as a stream of bullets ripped through the air and into the bodies of the Demons trying to get into the diner.  One or two were smart enough to take cover, but most of them continued their ill-advised charge of the fatal funnel and were met with several bullets from Becky as a reward.  

 

Within a few seconds, nine of the fifteen were incapacitated and clogging up the doorway so the remaining six wouldn’t be able to get in through that way and would have to either use the windows in front of her or the back door.  Becky dropped into a crouch and reloaded her rifle before she pulled out one of her newer inventions. It worked kind of like a claymore in that it had a tripwire but this one was motion activated. And instead of an explosion, this one released a row of taser prongs that would hit multiple targets and pump and an obscene amount of electricity into their bodies.  She set this up at the door to the kitchen before turning her attention back to the remaining Demons at the front of the store.  

 

Four of them were making their way towards the front windows and it seemed like they believed the glass to be bulletproof because they weren’t attempting to approach carefully at all.  Becky sighed as she rolled her eyes. These guys weren’t even putting up a challenge.  

 

She easily dispatched the first two with shots to their head and the next two with a few well-placed rounds to their torsos.  That’s when the sound of electricity crackling through the air caught her attention. She wheeled around, her pistol up and pointing as the two remaining Demons fell to the ground, their muscles seized up from the amount of voltage she had just forced them to endure.  She  _ tutted _ and shook her head while she killed them as well.  

 

She looked down at her newest invention and smiled, beyond pleased that it worked.  She filed that away as a keeper and then got up to check to see if there was any food left worth taking.

 

“Jackpot,” she said and then whistled as she opened first the pantry and then the freezer.  Inside was plenty of canned food and frozen goods. Enough to last her a few weeks maybe. It wouldn’t be enough, but it would take some of the pressure off of her shoulders until she could find another target.

 

She quickly left the building to go get the truck but stopped short when she saw there was already a mess of blonde hair sitting in the driver’s seat.  Becky’s eyes narrowed as she stalked up to it and yanked it open. “No. I think the bloody ‘ell not. Out ya get.”

 

The young girl from the alley a few weeks ago grinned as she turned to look at Becky.  “Yes! I can’t believe I found you again. This is so awesome!”

 

Becky shook her head.  “I ain’t really tryin ta hide.  Now like I said, out ya get.”

 

“Kayla.”

 

Becky blinked and looked at the girl.  “What?”

 

The girl smiled.  “My name. It’s Kayla.  I figure if you’re going to start training me, it would be easier if you knew my name.”

 

“Nope.  No way. Nuh-uh, now let’s go.  I ain’t trainin ya and yer holdin me up.  I got work ta do.”

 

“I can help!”  The girl called out even as she slid over into the passenger seat.  “At least let me be a lookout! You’re about to go collect food from the diner, right?  That’s why you have the van?”

 

Becky cocked an eyebrow at her.  How the hell had this girl figured out her plan from just a van.

 

“It’s just that you don’t usually use a vehicle,” Kayla shrugged.  “I’ve been paying attention.”

 

Becky shook her head as she climbed into the driver's seat and moved it to the back of the building.  “Stay ‘ere and don’t move. There’s too many Demons around fer ya ta be wanderin on yer own. I’m goin ta get my food and then I’m takin ya back home to yer da.  And then he and I are goin ta have a little chat.”   
  


She got out of the van and pointed at Kayla.  “I mean it. Don’t move.”  

 

She turned to go inside the building but quickly turned back around.  “And if Demons come, take the van and get the fook out of here.”

 

Kayla saluted, the absolute joy on her face was obvious.  Becky rolled her eyes and made her way back inside the diner to start loading up the van with the food that was left behind.  

 

Becky had been loading the van for about half an hour and was on her last trip when she heard the first sounds of an approaching group.  It sounded like Demons had come to the station and had just found their counterparts murdered out front. Becky cursed and slipped out the back door, tossing the rest of the food into the back of the van.

 

She opened the driver’s side door and looked at Kayla.  “We got company. Take the van and go. I’ll cause a distraction so you can get away.”

 

Becky didn’t wait to hear if the girl was going to protest or not.  She only had a few more seconds before they came around to the back and saw the van idling there.  And then the girl would be a sitting duck.  

 

She burst through the back door, her rifle up and already firing at the Demons who were inside the building.  The first few didn’t have enough time to react, but this group was a decently sized raiding party, which meant that Becky had at least five more to deal with before she could make her retreat.  She could only hope that Kayla was already on her way back home. At least she and her dad would have more than enough supplies to last them for a very long time.

 

Becky took cover behind the counter and tossed a grenade into the dining portion of the restaurant, moving her position before it even blew.  She repeated it a few times and then made a break for the front window she had shot out earlier. Her rifle provided cover fire as she kept the trigger pressed down while she ran, the barrel never leaving the direction the Demons were in. 

 

Diving through the shattered glass, Becky tried her best to roll back up on to her feet, but her backpack got in the way and she ended up skidding for a few feet on her side.  She scrambled to all fours and then was up and moving again in a matter of seconds. Now that she was outside, she was going to try and outrun them and hopefully they would chase her and not the sound of the van pulling away.  

 

Bullets ricocheted off of the gas tanks around her as Becky wove through them trying to avoid being hit.  She made it out of the gas station and turned around once she was behind a rather large box truck. She pulled out one of her canisters and lobbed it towards the tanks, praying that this last-ditch effort would work.

 

The canister exploded near the gas tanks as even more Demons seemed to pour into the street around her.  Becky didn’t wait around in case the fire caught some leaking gasoline, as she hoped it would. There was a distinct  _ whoosh _ sound as the fumes of the gas caught fire, making Becky push herself harder, to get further away.  

 

There was one startled yell and then the sound of a massive explosion.  Even being almost two blocks away from the location, the concussive wave sent Becky sprawling onto her face as debris rained down around her.  She lay there for a few seconds, trying to force air back into her lungs while she assessed the damage done to her body. 

 

It didn’t feel like anything was broken, and she didn’t seem to be bleeding, but a concussion and internal hemorrhaging were definite possibilities.  Becky was just pushing herself into a seated position with a groan when a van… her van came to a screeching halt in front of her.  

 

The passenger door swung open and Kayla was leaning across the seat.  “Need a lift?”

 

Becky cursed under her breath as she pulled herself into the van.  “I thought I told ya ta leave.”

 

Kayla nodded as she started to drive the van away from the wreckage.  “And I did, until I saw the explosion. You’re Straight Fire. The only thing that can make an explosion that big is you.  So I knew it was safe to come back.”

 

Becky hissed as her hand flew up to her bruised ribs.  “Yeah if ya say so. Now take me home to yer Da. I have some words I need to say ta him.”

 

Kayla seemed to pale a little.  “I don’t think you need to do that.”

 

Becky looked down to make sure there wasn’t blood on her hand. “I think I do.”  She tapped the barrel of her pistol on the center console. “It’s about time he learns about yer extracurricular activities.”

 

Kayla sighed as she made the turn onto the street that would take them to where she was staying.  “Yes, ma’am.”

  
Becky nodded once and then leaned back and closed her eyes.  “That’s more like it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Níl mé do puipéad. Tá sé in am a ghearradh ar an teaghráin agus a dhéanann tú rince motherfucker!” - "I'm not your puppet. It's time to cut the strings and make ya dance motherfucker."


	22. Right and Wrong - Bayley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Bayley Martinez meets the new Commander of the Division for the first.

Agent Bayley Martinez was in an uncharacteristically foul mood. And when she was feeling like this, she usually did her best to work it off through physical activity.

 

Like now.

 

Bayley’s Shrike was vibrating with the force of a paint shaker as she poured a hail of deadly lead toward the burnt out car ahead of her. She was plodding toward the car as she went, the best pace she could manage in full armor, all while shouting into her comm.

 

“Buddies! I have the shooters pinned, flank them now!” she called. She let off on her shooting for two heartbeats, regaining full control of her weapon, before opening up again. She had a lot of things to keep track of as she worked. She had a rough notion of how much ammo she had left in her present pouch magazine, she had to keep track of the HUD being projected in her eyepiece, be aware of the potential threats around her, and of what her team was doing.

 

All in a day's work for her.

 

As Bayley kept firing she noted as a string of tracer rounds lanced out of her weapon. This indicated that she was in the final 100 rounds of her magazine. Bayley was s support gunner by training, she carried around an LMG and was responsible for providing fire support to her squad mates. This meant she went through a LOT of bullets, and that it wasn’t always as important that she hit anything. Her role was to keep the enemy’s heads down and to herd them with her fire.

 

Of course, the downside of her weaponry was that it took her much longer than most to reload. Knowing this, she barked another order into her comm. “I’m going to be reloading in a moment, everyone who isn’t flanking needs to bring the suppressing fire!”

 

“Got it agent!” someone answered. If Bayley had been back in the USAF 1st Special Operations Wing she wouldn’t have had to verbally give this very basic order, but she wasn’t working with hardened operators these days. Her squad was full of enthusiastic but raw volunteers picked from the school’s population. Bayley had spent quite a bit of time organizing a small militia to defend the school, and she was...somewhat confident in their ability to defend the place from most raiders.

 

But defending your home was one thing, working as a cohesive and effective unit out in the field was a whole other thing. Bayley had done her best on training the group that she now called her ‘buddies’ (much to their chagrin) but the truth was that they simply needed reps together doing the real thing to grow. She just had to hope that they wouldn’t be killed in the process.

 

Snarling at the very thought of this, Bayley thought for a moment of using one of her seeker mines. She did this as her hands flew over her weapon, dropping and stowing her pouch mag and then inserting another. She decided against the mine on the grounds that they were facing only three opponents. When she ran out of her SHD tech, it was gone for good unless she somehow stumbled upon an unlooted cache.

 

When her weapon was ready to go, Bayley popped up from behind her cover and cut loose with a barrage of fire. “Where are my flankers?” she shouted over the shooting.

 

“Almost there, agent!” came an answering voice. Bayley had to work from rolling her eyes or snapping something out of frustration as she kept the enemy down. Her bad mood wasn’t an excuse to potentially stunt any confidence her buddies were building. And, in their defense, it only took a few more seconds. 

 

Bayley watched as a pair of Molotov cocktails soared through the air toward where the shooters sheltering. One shattered on top of the car but the other fell right on target. Bayley heard saw as the victims suddenly stood, stumbling away with their hair and clothes on fire, their agonized screams filling the air. Bayley didn’t let them suffer, three quick shots and they all fell to the ground, still smoldering. 

 

“We were trying to capture those guns!” Bayley snapped, but then sighed. She counted to three and then added: “But, great work team. No one got hurt, that’s the important thing.” She scanned the area around her as her team emerged from cover, she didn’t see any threats but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. “Don’t cluster in the street…” she reminded “...Retrieval team, get to work. The rest of you hunker down, we need to keep retrieval safe while they work.”

 

She received a chorus of affirmatives from her group as she toward the innocuous looking garage. Bayley guessed it had once been used to store municipal vehicles, but it had long since been taken over by the three people they’d just killed. Bayley had been checking the place out for a few days and it seemed the group hadn’t made any friends so she doubted anyone would be coming to help them. More importantly, she’d seen them bringing several promising looking boxes into the place. 

 

As her team set to work Bayley did a quick sweep of the perimeter, the garage had a small copse of trees behind it and was located at the end of a short turn off. Bayley’s team had been able to creep up on the flanks due mostly to her distraction. Finding a ladder around the back, Bayley slung her weapon and climbed to the roof. This was no small feat in her armor so she arrived out of breath. 

 

When she reached the roof she dropped down against the edge of the roof and took a few moments to catch her breath. There wasn’t anything up here but she decided she’d earned a quick break. Unfortunately, this left her brain with nothing to do but dwell on the irritating conversation she’d had just a few days before.

 

After returning from their raid on the police station, Bayley had been tired and very ready for some sleep. But she’d gone up to the comm center on the news that she had a call waiting for her. She hadn’t realized anyone else aside from the residents of the school had known she was there. But then it had hit her, the ISAC node on her shoulder.

 

“Hello?” she asked.

 

“ _ Agent Martinez _ ?”

 

“That’s me…” Bayley answered.

 

“ _ My name is Lieutenant Charlotte Flair, I’ve been hoping to talk to you for a few days now _ .”

 

The name hadn’t meant anything to Bayley, though that wasn’t surprising in itself. She was more interested in the fact that the woman had seemingly been searching for her. Why? Who was she that she even had access to who Bayley was? She had addressed her as ‘agent’ after all.

 

“Well, you found me Lieutenant...what can I do for you?” Bayley asked.

 

“ _ I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Arn Anderson was killed a few days ago and that leaves me as Commanding officer for Division Agents in Chicago.  I need you to come in to JTF headquarters so I can brief you and get you mobilized to a more tactical location _ ,” Lieutenant Flair answered, her tone serious and authoritative.

 

This news, delivered so quickly, rocked Bayley back on her heels. The Division was, by its very nature, a decentralized organization with almost no hierarchy to speak of. But all agents within a certain area would be aware of two authority figures. The first would be their wave’s local commander, in Bayley’s case this was the mysterious Gail Kim. The other was the area/regional commander, the one in charge of all division activity in a given area. Bayley had never met Anderson, but she knew he had been the commander for the greater Chicago area.

 

“I hadn’t…” Bayley finally managed to answer. She was quiet for a moment before she asked: “What happened?”

 

“ _ Peace talks with different faction leaders went sideways.  We were attacked. But that doesn’t matter now. What matters is that Kim is MIA, Anderson is KIA and I’m left with a mess to clean up and basically no agents to speak of.  So I need you to grab your gear and start heading North. _ ”  There wasn’t any comfort or sympathy in the way Lieutenant Flair delivered the message.  She seemed to be focused on being concise and to the point.

 

Bayley frowned at this brusque manner of speaking. She hadn’t known Anderson from anyone else but even she felt that his death might warrant more of a pause than this. Still, everyone grieves differently and besides, she had a more pressing issue to deal with. 

 

“I’m glad to have met you Commander, but I’m afraid I can’t just pack up and go,” she said, trying to speak as differentially as possible while being firm. 

 

There was a tension filled pause that could be felt over the comms.  “ _ I understand your hesitation.  But I wasn’t really asking, Agent Martinez. _ ”

 

Bayley felt her heart sink at this indication of how the conversation would go. Steeling herself inwardly she prepared for a fight. “Respectfully, Commander, I have a whole settlement full of desperate people down here that I need to look after. Everyday they are staring death by demons or starvation in the face, I can’t just leave them.”

 

There was a barely audible scoff.  “ _ Those people will benefit more if we can keep these factions under control.  Their protection right now is short term. I need you to start thinking long term.  The sooner we can take back the city, the sooner these people can live in peace. I need you in order to do that. _ ”  

 

Bayley bit her lip, she understood Flair’s arguments even if she found them flawed. “The ‘short term’ is all these people have. No one lives ‘big picture’ and the problems they'll be facing while I’m off chasing the greater good will be real enough to them. I wish you the best of luck in what you’re doing Commander, and if I can find a way to help down the road I will. But I must respectfully say no.”

 

“ _ Seriously? _ ”  The tone was borderline condescending with an undercurrent of disbelief.  “ _ You’re going to turn your back on what this city needs?  I don’t know if you’ve noticed Agent Martinez, but we are currently on the losing side of this fight.  I’ve seen your jacket, I know what you’re capable of. _ ”  

 

There was another pause that hung rather ominously between them.  “ _ I’m not above ordering you to respond in. _ ”

 

Bayley gritted her teeth, apparently Flair had either not heard or chosen to ignore what she’d said about the very real people at the school. “I’m sorry Commander, but your orders don’t matter. The regs are very clear, all division agents have COMPLETE autonomy to execute our directives as we see fit. You can’t ‘order’ me to do anything.” Bayley tried to speak as respectfully as she could when she said this, but her voice was absolutely firm.

 

There was a frustrated sigh.  “ _ I understand what the regs say you can and cannot do.  But my resources are stretched thin as it is, and if I’m being frank, you’re more important to the cause up here than you are to those what…fifteen people at that school?  Will their loss be felt if the settlement falls? Yes. But it will be felt by more if I can’t bring this city back to heel. _ ”

Bayley fumed at this blase response from Flair. Did the other woman not care at all? “That’s an awfully cavalier way to refer to over FIFTY people’s lives. I’m sure they wouldn’t be quite as eager as you to view themselves as expendable. If I can settle the situation down here then I will think about coming north to assist you Commander Flair. Until then, I’m afraid I don’t have anything else to say at this time.”

 

“ _ Agent Martinez, as a Division Agent, I would expect you to understand that sometimes people have to be seen as expendable for us to complete the mission.  I know you’re pretty newly deployed, but more and more people are dying every day out here. And I don’t have time to really care if I’m seen as cavalier or not.  I don’t have time for a lot of things _ .”  

 

She pauses and takes a deep breath.  There’s a minor tremor that can be heard as she exhales.  “ _ We are running out of time as a city Agent Martinez.  So I’m very strongly suggesting that you respond to JTF headquarters by tomorrow so we can work to resolve these issues we all have breathing down our necks _ .”

 

Bayley was not only unimpressed with Flair’s arguments, but was rapidly developing that opinion of Flair herself. Still, a deeply ingrained habit toward politeness made her reluctant to engage in a real knock down drag out argument here and now. There were others around and she didn’t want to depress anyone’s morale. So it was time to use an old trick.

 

Squaring her shoulders, she raised her gloved hands in front of the microphone and began to rub them together rapidly. To the woman on the other end it would like loud bursts of static. As she did this she spoke. “I’m sorry commander could you repeat that last? Your signal seems to be breaking up.” Flair probably only heard a few of these words but Bayley was going for that.

 

The irritation was clear in the voice that responded.  “ _ I did three tours overseas, and my guys tried the same trick on me all the time.  You heard me. Respond here by tomorrow, or our next conversation will be less pleasant than this. _ ”

 

“Sorry Commander what was that? I-” Bayley said before cutting the call. Flair had seen through the trick but she felt as though if you’re going to lie, you have to commit to it. Turning to the comm operator Bayley said: “When she calls again, I’m busy. I’ll have you call her when I want to talk.”

 

Back in the present, Bayley couldn’t help a small disgusted curl to her lip. She was appalled at the idea that a Division agent could so blithely dismiss the lives of civilians like Flair had. I was even more disturbing that the person capable of doing so was in a position of authority. Bayley thought about the people in her squad, and then of all of those living at the school. It was incomprehensible to her that anyone could reduce them to simple numbers.

 

Bayley couldn’t, and she wouldn’t. 

 

Standing abruptly Bayley walked to the edge of the building and looked down at the street. She was about to call something encouraging down to her team. Not just because she thought they deserved it but as a bit of petty revenge on the faceless Charlotte Flair, but something distracted her. Something major.

 

Bayley was filling her lungs when a huge explosion rumbled in the distance. Bayley automatically dropped into a crouch and scanned the area around her. There was a huge column of black smoke rising into the air in the distance. Bayley guessed that the site of the blast was about three miles away. Nowhere near her present location, but it certainly reinforced a sense of urgency within her.

 

“What’s the status on that pick up?” Bayley shouted down.

 

“We’ve got most of the boxes, agent! They had batteries like you thought!”

 

Bayley nodded in approval, this was what she’d been hoping. “Pack it up and let’s get out of here!” she called as she made her way back to the ladder. It only took a minute before she was standing in front of the garage among her people again. The thought made her smile, HER people. That’s what they were, and she would always stand for them.

 

“What was that, agent?” a woman asked, gripping her rifle as though it were a security blanket. She was obviously referring to the explosion. 

 

“I have no idea, but I still think it’s best if we hustle back home. We’ll post an extra guard tonight just to be sure,” Bayley said to a chorus of approving muttering and nods. Most of the people in her group had family living in the school, all had friends. Thus they would all approve of more protection for them, and even more of the idea of being their personally to help defend the school.

 

“Are we still going to go out again tomorrow?” someone asked. Bayley thought about it, but only for a moment. Explosion or not, the settlement still had needs and she still needed to train her team. 

 

“Yeah, we’ll go…” she said. She was privately thinking that she would go on her own little excursion in the near future. Though they were pretty far removed from the city center, reports and rumors filtered out to Bayley and the settlement with some regularity. She’d heard the rumors about the increased violence in downtown, and the mysterious figures behind it. She didn’t much care if the myth of ‘Straight Fire’ or ‘the Ghost’ were grounded in reality. She just wanted to make sure that that havoc didn’t engulf the school.

 

It then occurred to her that Flair might be able to just tell her what she wanted to know. But Bayley wasn’t going to open that Pandora’s box. She’d do this on her own, or she wouldn’t at all. It wasn’t as though she had to after all. She had plenty that could keep her busy around the school.

 

“Are you alright, Agent?” one of her squad asked. Bayley realized that some of her thoughts must have shown on her face. 

 

“I’m good, great work today,” Bayley said distractedly. Her mind was far away as she considered what might be going on just a few miles to the east and what Flair had said about the situation there.

 

Maybe the war was coming to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the time of this posting we are at 1970 hits! We're not that far from my illustrious co-writers' birthday! (Just kidding, love you LL)
> 
> I had thought this story might do modestly well, and that it would really be more a passion project but you all seem to be loving it so expect much more! We have planned an unreasonable amount of possible story ideas!
> 
> Soooooo that conversation was uncomfortable, yeah? Who do you think is right? This doesn't bode well for the hugger and the commander in any case, does it?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	23. One Fire After Another - Charlotte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte continues to keep the JTF afloat while the war continues on without slowing down.

Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest as she stared down at the map on the table in front of her.  She sighed as she added a marker that now represented Agent Martinez to the school settlement in the south.  Her initial conversation with the woman was two days ago, and the words they said to each other wouldn’t stop bouncing around in her head.

 

It definitely wasn’t how she saw the conversation with Agent Martinez going.  If anything, she expected to be able to reach Martinez the easiest. She had been Air Force for a few years, and that shared trait alone should have been enough for them to relate.  It’s not like the other woman didn’t understand the chain of command or marching orders. When your commanding officer gave you an order, you followed it. No questions asked. Questions are what got people killed.

 

So she had given Martinez her new marching orders.  And it wasn’t even an order for how she spends her time, it was more an order to come in for a briefing.  An order to come in so they could discuss what needed to be done out there. An order to come in and please for the love of God, take some of the pressure off of Charlotte’s shoulders.

 

She had hoped that Martinez would understand that.  That she could hear how desperately Charlotte needed someone on her side, by her side in all of this.  Someone who would understand her struggles and relate. She had hoped that person would be Martinez.

 

But somewhere in Charlotte giving Martinez her orders, things had gone sideways.  And honestly, Charlotte had no idea where or why things had gone that way.  

 

She had since tried reaching out to her Agent but was told in no uncertain terms that Martinez was unavailable.  Which of course Charlotte knew was Martinez simply avoiding her. If she knew where she had taken her misstep, she could fix it.  But Martinez’s immediate dismissal of Charlotte’s orders was hard to take in. The way that Charlotte saw it, this new agent was her key to possibly turning this fight around.  Now? Now it was apparently out of the question. 

 

The thought that Martinez was already rogue had crossed Charlotte’s mind.  But that didn’t sit right with her. She didn’t seem like the rogue, only looking out for herself and her payday type of person.  She also didn’t seem like the type to sell herself to the highest bidder. Which meant that Martinez was just defiant and possibly a little insubordinate.  

 

Charlotte sighed, and rubbed at her eyes before checking the time.  It had been…what, twenty-nine hours since she last slept? And even then it had been for maybe two hours at most.  It was hard to tell anymore. Every time she went to lay down, something else happened that required Charlotte’s attention.  She grabbed the three files off the map table and went back to her desk.

 

She groaned when she sat down, and took a second to assess the different pains that suddenly ran through her body.  She hadn’t been this tired since passing the Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape training required to become a Combat Rescue Officer.  And that training had possibly been the hardest training she ever had to endure. This was proving to be a close second though.  

 

Charlotte rubbed at her eyes again.  Everything was becoming blurry, causing Charlotte to curse.  The last thing she needed right now was to have to stop and sleep.  She could feel that she was close to figuring out what was bothering Martinez about their first interaction.  She just needed a few more minutes to come up with whatever it was. She yawned as she opened Martinez’s file and started to read it.

 

It wasn’t until she was reading it through the second time that her eyes focused on what she was supposed to be understanding.  Martinez had led a mission to liberate a village and hold it for several days. Eventually, they were ordered to abandon their mission and return to base, leaving the villagers to fend for themselves.  Which meant that that particular village probably did not last the night once Martinez’s unit left.

 

And here Charlotte was, asking her to do the same thing with the people at the school.  “Fuck,” Charlotte hissed as she dropped her head into her hands. “You’re an idiot, Flair.”

 

She gave herself a few minutes in that position.  She had made a massive mistake in dealing with Martinez, and now she had to figure out how to handle it moving forward.  Ultimately the Agents had autonomy, which meant that they didn’t have to check in with her or contact her at all for that matter.  Maybe allowing Martinez to have that freedom, allowing her to choose when she assisted Charlotte, could help repair the bridge that Charlotte had already burned.  

 

It didn’t matter at this point because Martinez was refusing to answer her radio transmissions or take any of the messages she had sent down to the school.  So sitting here worrying about repairing their connection was pointless until Martinez decided to play ball.

 

Charlotte made a mental note to make up a list of supplies she could offer as a trade to the school.  Maybe if she couldn’t persuade Martinez to help with the fighting, she could at least persuade her to set up a trade route between the school and the JTF.  Charlotte sighed and moved the file off to the side for the time being. As much as she wanted to get Martinez on her side, there wasn’t much she could do at this point.

 

The next order of business was to start finding the parts that Ripley and Riddle had asked for.  The list itself wasn’t all that extensive. It was just a matter of finding everything since most of the major stores in the downtown area had already been picked over.  Charlotte pulled a smaller map closer to her to study as she leaned back in her chair. It shouldn’t be too hard to find stores her members could hit in the suburbs, it was just a matter of getting them out there.   

 

Charlotte settled deeper into the chair while she contemplated this particular issue.  It was the last thing she remembered thinking about before her eyes drug themselves shut and her body lost its fight against sleep.

  
  


____________________

  
  


Charlotte startled awake a little while later, her eyes darting around the room and her hand tightening on her sidearm.  Her heart rate had spiked and her breathing picked up, coming out in sharp, ragged pants.

 

Xia stood in the doorway, looking sheepish and guilty as hell.  “Sorry Commander. But you wanted to know when Naomi and her squad got back.”

 

The Commander blinked a few times and then shook her head when her eyesight didn’t immediately correct itself.  “Yeah… uh, yeah. I mean yes. Thank you, Xia,” Charlotte stuttered as she wiped at her eyes.   

 

Xia smiles tightly.  “I’m sorry to interrupt your sleep, I know you don’t get enough of it as it is.  But Dr. Scot has also been looking for you.”

 

Charlotte groans as she puts her head on her desk.  “I missed my last mandatory session. It’s fine, I’ll find her later.  If she stops by again, please just relay that message.”   
  


Xia nods and then leaves Charlotte to her own devices.  She curses a second later, realizing she now had to get up and find Naomi.  “No time like the present,” she grumbles as she stands, a groan ripping from her mouth as things pop back into place. 

 

She walked out into the hallway and then towards the chow hall.  If Naomi’s unit was like any other, then they would be grabbing a bite to eat before they went to their bunks.  There was nothing more annoying than being on patrol on an empty stomach.  

 

Charlotte took a deep breath before she entered the eating area.  It was a place she tried to keep free of her presence. Because headquarters wasn’t all that big, Charlotte understood the need of her people to have a Commander free zone, if they felt the need to openly complain about things.  She wanted them to feel comfortable enough in at least one area of headquarters to be themselves. She wanted them to be able to relax as much as possible, and the constant threat of the Commander looming didn’t make that possible. So she usually went in at the same time every day, grabbed some food and went back to her office.  That way they would know when she would be entering the area and could regulate their conversations accordingly.  

 

_ Maybe I can ask Xia to start grabbing food for me instead, _ she thought to herself as she took another second to compose herself at the door. 

 

It made for a lonely existence, but a necessary one.  She needed her people operating at their best, and this was one way she could help with that.

 

Charlotte walked in and scanned the crowd, spotting Naomi and her unit almost immediately.  They had the look of someone who had just been to war. Charlotte walked up to them, a smile on her face.  “Welcome back. Glad to see everyone’s safe.”

 

The noise of the chow hall seemed to quiet down around them, and Charlotte worked to convince herself that it was just her anxiety coming out to play.  

 

Naomi smiled tightly up at Charlotte. “Yeah.  Everyone’s good. Anything I can help you with?”

 

Charlotte nodded, understanding the message.  “Just come see me when you get a second. Not an emergency, but sometime in the next 24 hours.  I’d like an update.”

 

Naomi blinked at her a few times.  “I can go shower and hit the rack for a bit first?” she asked hesitantly.

 

“Yeah.  Take care of what you need to and then when you get a second, come find me.”

 

Naomi nodded as Charlotte turned to leave and headed to the food line, made a tray and left the room as quickly as possible.

 

She decided to ask Xia about getting her food from now on.  Somewhere along the line, Xia had just kind of become Charlotte’s unofficial assistant.  She was always around when Charlotte needed to send a message somewhere, and always seemed to be the one to bring messages to Charlotte.  She made a mental note to ask Xia what she had done before the city fell, she didn’t want to be wasting the woman’s potential if she had been doing something useful before the world ended.

 

Charlotte sighed, balanced her tray of food in one hand and opened her office door.  She was starving and couldn’t wait to sit for a few minutes and eat, even if the food wasn’t all that great.  At this point, she just needed the calories so she could keep moving forward.

 

“Commander Flair.”

 

“Fuck me!” Charlotte yelped as she nearly dropped her food.  She steadied herself against the door frame for a second and narrowed her eyes at the other blonde sitting in the room.  “Dr. Scot, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

The former CPD psychotherapist cleared her throat and took her feet off of Charlotte’s desk, sitting up straight in the desk chair.  “You’ve been skipping your sessions. You know it’s my job to make sure everyone here is taking care of themselves. And it seems as though you have been slipping in that endeavor.”

 

Charlotte heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes as she walked over to her desk.  “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve been more than a little busy trying to bring myself up to speed with what Anderson had been doing here before he died.”

 

Dr. Scot raised a solitary eyebrow.  “When was the last time you slept in your bunk?”

 

Charlotte shrugged.  “Last night.”

 

“And for how long?”

 

Charlotte set her food down on her desk and rubbed at her eyes.  “All due respect, Doc. I would really like to have a few minutes of peace and quiet while I eat.”

 

Dr. Scot looked like she was about to give Charlotte a piece of her mind when the radio on Charlotte’s hip squawked to life.  “ _ Commander Flair, there’s an emergency in the generator room.  We need you down here ASAP.” _

 

Charlotte held up a finger to Dr. Scot, indicating that she would be with her in a second.  “What is the nature of the emergency?”

 

Riddle’s usually relaxed voice came back a little stressed.  “ _ Ummm…. It’s kinda on fire.” _

 

“Mother fucker…” Charlotte exclaimed as she exhaled harshly.  “On my way.”

 

She reached over to the PA system for the building and told the firefighters to respond to the generator room.  She turned to Dr. Scot, trying to keep the relief off of her face at the idea of dodging this particular meeting for the day.  “I have to go. Feel free to help yourself…” she gestured vaguely at the food on her desk. 

 

Charlotte didn’t wait for a response before she was out the door and moving quickly towards the basement.  Once there, she took in the scene around her and shook her head. One of the generators was up in flames, and there was some singeing on the generator next to it and the walls behind it.  It didn’t look like the damage was too bad, but that might be because Rhea was currently hitting it with a massive amount of foam from a fire extinguisher.  

 

Charlotte grabbed Riddle as he jogged past her with two extinguishers in his hand.  She took one and joined him and Ripley in fighting the fire, stopping long enough to throw a look over her shoulder as the fire suppression team showed up with more sophisticated gear.  Once they were set up, Charlotte and the two engineers stepped away and let the firefighters do their job. 

 

As Charlotte stepped out of the room, Naomi was jogging down the hallway and pulling on her turnout coat.  Charlotte shook her head and reached out to her. “This shift has it. You just got back from patrol, go get some sleep.”

 

Naomi shook her head at the taller blonde.  “I appreciate the concern Commander, but this is what I do.  Let me get to work.”

 

Charlotte studied her for a few seconds and then nodded when she realized she wouldn’t win this battle.  “Once it’s taken care of though, go get some rest and come see me in the morning.”

 

Naomi nodded and then moved into the generator room to help put out the flames.  Charlotte watched the other woman go, and made another mental note to make sure Naomi’s squad got a few days off.  She had been pushing them rather hard, but that was mainly because under Naomi’s leadership they were excelling.   

 

She watched the fire crews work to salvage the other generators and coughed a few times when the two blonde engineers approached.  “What the hell happened?”

 

Rhea shrugged.  “It’s the older gear that Anderson was making us use.  We’ve been pushing it to its limits and it finally kicked the shitter.”

 

“We really need to either get a bunch of new parts or start making the switch to solar.  Otherwise, these things won’t last much longer. Especially with how much strain we’ve been putting on them.”

 

Charlotte just blinked at Riddle for a few seconds.  She had definitely never heard him string together that many words without an “uh” or an “um” or a “bro” to flush out the sentence.  “So what I’m hearing is that you need me to move your supply list to the top of the priority list, otherwise we won’t have power for too much longer.”

 

“Exactly,” Rhea nodded.

 

Charlotte pinched the bridge of her nose.  “Okay. I will see what I can do. I’ll try and send out a squad in a little bit to get at least the stuff we’ll need to keep these up and running.  Then we can start looking for solar panels to salvage. How long do we have?”   
  


Riddle closed his eyes and started whispering numbers under his breath.  “A few weeks,” he said after a few seconds. “And that’s being generous.”

 

Charlotte nodded.  “Of course. Thank you.  Keep me updated about all of this?”

 

“Yes ma’am,” Rhea answered for them.

 

Charlotte waved to her as she walked down the hallway and back up to her office.  The adrenaline from the fire would allow her to get a few hours of work in before the crash inevitably catches up with her, so she might as well put it to good use.  

  
  


___________________________

 

Charlotte groaned as she rolled out of her bunk and into a pair of pants for the day.  Getting at least two hours of sleep might be worth it if her body didn’t protest so much.  She tried to tame her hair as much as possible, but gave up after a few attempts and just tossed it into a ponytail.  She didn’t have any important meetings that she knew about today.  

 

Naomi would be stopping by eventually, and then the daily briefings from each of her department heads.  But none of them would care what she looked like. Every last one of them had found her asleep at her desk at some point or another.  Dr. Sane had even found her sitting on the floor and leaning on the wall. She still doesn’t quite remember how she got there, but her back did nothing but protest the entire next day.  

 

She yawned as she walked out of her bunk and next door to her office.  Arn had personally taken a room that was further away from his office and the centralized area of headquarters.  But with all of the fires, both literal and metaphorical, that she had been putting out… it made more sense for her to be closer to where she was needed in case of an emergency.  Plus, more and more families were showing up and asking for refuge, so she was happy to give up the larger room to one of them. All she really needed was a bunk, and she was rarely using that.

 

She barely had the door open when a cup of coffee was pushed into her hands.  She blinked at it and turned to thank Xia, but was looking at Naomi instead. “Thank you, Knight.  Come in, and we can get down to business.”

 

Naomi followed Charlotte into her office and settled herself down in the chair across from Charlotte at her desk.  “Don’t worry about it. You looked like you could use the caffeine.”

 

Charlotte shrugged.  “No rest for the weary.  Which reminds me… your squad, I’m giving you guys the next forty-eight hours off.  I know I’ve been asking a lot from you and your team, and you keep performing. So take the next two days and rest up.”

 

Naomi blinked at her for a few seconds.  “You are really hard to figure out sometimes, you know that?  You’re barely keeping this place afloat, you barely sleep yourself and yet you’re giving us time off?  That’s not how this usually works.”

 

“So I’ve been told,” Charlotte answers with a chuckle.  She takes a drink from the mug and looks at Naomi. “So, find anything for me?”

 

Naomi answers by tossing a small evidence bag onto her desk with a bullet in it.  It wasn’t in great condition, but it looked like there was enough of it left to at least pull a caliber off of it.  It wasn’t the best choice, but it was a place to start.  

 

Charlotte picked it up and looked at what was left of the bullet.  It appeared to be a .338 caliber round from a high powered rifle. She flipped the bag over and then dropped it back onto her office desk.  This would need a conversation with Io later on in the day.  

 

“Find anything else?”

 

Naomi shrugged.  “The kill scenes have changed a little bit.”

 

Charlotte steepled her fingers and thought about it for a second.  “How do you mean?”

 

Naomi pulled out a digital camera and pulled up the pictures she had.  “These first few are the Ghost’s early kill sites. And these… these are their most recent ones.”

 

Charlotte took the camera and studied them.  “See? This is why you’re my go-to squad. Taking pictures… smart move.”

 

Naomi shrugged noncommittally, “but you see the difference?  The more recent scenes have more chaos involved in them. The shots are still the same, calculated and efficient.  The immediate surrounding area though, that’s more chaotic. Plus the knots are showing up at these newer locations too.”

 

Charlotte’s brow furrowed.  “What does that mean? That they're one person?”

 

Naomi shook her head.  “No, I think you’re right in thinking that they’re two different people.  I just don’t know what that means.”

 

Charlotte thought about it for a few seconds and then nodded.  “All right. I think it’s time I pay our ears a visit. Thanks, Naomi.  Enjoy your time off.”

 

Naomi stood and shook Charlotte’s hand.  “Thanks for giving it to us. I know the guys will be thrilled.”

 

Charlotte smiled tightly as Naomi left the room.  She let herself enjoy the silence for a few seconds before she walked out of her office and towards the kitchens.  If there was one person who had his ears to the ground and may have heard anything about the Ghost or Straight Fire, it would be José.  She sighed. She would need another cup of coffee if she was to deal with Jose this early in the morning.  

 

_________________

  
  


“Hey!  I said more onions!  Not… no. Those are shallots!  I need actual onions!”

 

Charlotte winced as she walked into the kitchen.  José was a great find for the JTF, he had previous experience working in a restaurant and was very good at not wasting food when making meals.  One of the downsides of José though was how exuberant and jovial he was. Not to mention loud at… Charlotte checked her watch and groaned, 0645 hours.   

 

“Oye!  Gringa!  Been a while.  What you think because you’re the Commander now, you can’t come see me anymore?”

 

Charlotte smiled at the large man.  Even though he was rather loud for the time of day it was, his attitude was infectious for sure.  She shrugged as she walks over to him. “Something like that. You got a second?”

 

José studies her for a second and then nods at the produce he had been chopping.  “If you can talk while I chop, then I have all the time in the world.”

 

Charlotte crosses her arms as he starts chopping once again.  “I need some information about Straight Fire and the Ghost. What can you tell me about them?”

 

He doesn’t look up, “what makes you think they’re two different people?”

 

Charlotte raises an eyebrow.  “What makes you think they’re not?”

 

He just levels a skeptical look at her.  She sighs, “the styles of kills are all wrong for the same person… at least until recently.”

 

José smiles at her.  “That’s because word on the street is that they are currently beefin with each other.”

 

Charlotte furrows her brow and stands up straighter.  “Really? Why would they be doing that?”

 

José shrugs, “beats me, but that’s what everyone’s saying.  That the Ghost is trying to lure Straight Fire out into the open or some shit, and Straight Fire is tired of the games.”

 

Charlotte closes her eyes and her shoulders sag.  “So their destruction is only going to get worse from here on out.”

 

José nods as he grabs another onion to slice.  “Yeah, and the way I see it is they both have a habit of not dying, so we should probably settle in.”

 

Charlotte groans.  This was not the news she was hoping for.  The two of them on their own were causing enough problems for her as it is.  But now that they’re hunting each other? A bunch of lives were suddenly at stake.  “Anything else you can tell me about them?”

 

José shrugged.  “Just that one of them supposedly has bright orange hair and the other one a darker magenta.”

 

Charlotte rolls her eyes.  “Of course they do.” She pauses to watch him work.  “Thanks, José. You always come through for me in the clutch.”

 

José simply winks at her but keeps working.  “Don’t be such a stranger around here. You’re not terrible company, and even the Commander has to eat from time to time.”

 

Charlotte smiled at him.  “Will do, thanks!” she yelled over her shoulder as she started to walk back to her office.  She had made it about twenty steps down the hallway when a voice rang out behind her.

 

“Commander Flair!”

 

Charlotte sighed as she stopped and turned around to face the person running towards her.  “Officer Evans, good morning.”

 

Lacey’s face seemed to light up at being remembered.  “Good morning!”

 

Charlotte waited for the other blonde to continue and raised her eyebrows when she didn’t.   _ That _ movement Lacey seemed to catch.  “Oh! Sorry, right. Here is the latest report on the Brigid’s knots you asked for.  Along with the list of recently deceased Agents. And a debrief on what that rather large explosion was in the south a few days ago.”

 

Charlotte took a quick look at the three pieces of paper that were being handed to her.  She started heading back to her office, expecting Evans to follow. When she didn’t Charlotte tossed an “Evans, keep up!” over her shoulder.

 

Lacey scrambled, excitedly after the other woman, almost bowling her over in her haste to catch up.  Charlotte sent her a quizzical look. “You ok?”

 

Lacey nodded enthusiastically.  “Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am, I just didn’t want to keep you waiting.” 

 

Charlotte stared blankly at her for a few seconds before continuing to her office, where she put the paper about the knots and the explosion down on her desk.  She pointed at the map as she walked over to her Agent board. “Mark the new knots for me. And the explosion too, please.”

 

Lacey nodded and set about marking the new knots with thumb-tacks and then marked the explosion with a sharpie.  Once she was done, she looked up at what Charlotte was doing and winced. “That many?”

 

Charlotte didn’t turn around from looking at the new names added to the KIA list.  “Are we certain that they’re deceased?”

 

Lacey nods even though Charlotte can’t see it.  “They’re nodes registered flatline on all of them.  Not that they were turned off, but that there were no longer viable signs of life.”

 

Charlotte stands in silence for a long time, just staring at the list that had grown with a few names over the last week.  “It’s not as many.”

 

Lacey looked up from the pattern she had been looking at with the layout of the knots.  “What?”

 

Charlotte reached forward and slowly moved the names into separate groups.  “Look at the numbers over the weeks. There were a lot more even up to two weeks ago.  They haven’t stopped completely, but they’ve dropped off drastically…..”

 

Charlotte cocked her head to the side as realization started to set in.  “Mother fucker!”  

 

She turned around and started looking at all the locations of deceased Agents on the map, and exhaled forcefully in a near growl when she saw they were relatively close to one another.  “That son of a bitch!”

 

Lacey watches as Charlotte stalks back over to the board and starts marking certain files with one color.  “Ummm, Commander….?”

 

Charlotte doesn’t turn around but also doesn’t stop shaking her head.  “The Ghost is the one killing our agents. This just moved them to priority number one,” Charlotte bit out before she took several calming breaths.  She finally turned around and walked back towards the map.

 

“Sorry Officer Evans.  What do you have to report on those new knots?”

 

Lacey pointed to the new markers.  “It seems like Straight Fire is expanding their territory.”

 

Charlotte nods and then looks back at the newest sharpie mark, indicating the explosion site.  “The gas station?? Seriously!? The New Day was set to move on that tomorrow. We needed that gasoline to help run our APC’s and generators.” 

 

Now she was going to have to find an alternate gas source.  Add that to the ever-growing list of things they needed to have accomplished yesterday.  

 

She looks up at Lacey.  “Do we know who did that?”

 

Evans shakes her head.  “Nothing confirmed, but rumors say it was Straight Fire.”

 

Charlotte closes her eyes and chuckles in a self-deprecating way, the noise falling flat and rather toneless in the room.  “Of course it was. Thank you, Evans.”

 

Lacey took that as the message it was intended to be and left the office.  Charlotte walked over to her chair and sat down in it. She crossed her arms on her desk and put her forehead on her arms, trying to get the frustration to seep out of her shoulders.  And because the universe hates her, the peace and quiet lasted only a few minutes before there was a knock on her door.  

 

“Can you come back later?”

 

“Actually, Commander Flair, I can’t.”

 

Charlotte closed her eyes and cursed under her breath.  This was the last person that Charlotte wanted to see right now.  She took a deep breath and sat up. “Dr. Scot. What a surprise.”

 

Sr. Scot raised a single eyebrow.  “Is it?”

 

Charlotte shook her head.  “No, it actually isn’t. But this is a really bad time and --”

 

Dr. Scot shook her head as she stepped further into the office, and held up a hand to cut Charlotte off.  “If you’re about to ask if we can reschedule, I am afraid the answer is no. You’ve been avoiding me for about two weeks now, and I need to clear you for duty.”

 

Charlotte nodded, “fine, you win.  Please, have a seat,” she pointed at the chair in front of her desk.  Dr. Scot slid gracefully into it and just watched Charlotte for a few seconds.  

 

Charlotte was about to open her mouth to say something when her radio squawked from her hip.  “ _ Commander Flair?  We have some people named the Revival on the main communications line for you. _ ”

 

Charlotte managed to look slightly apologetic as she smiled tightly at Dr. Scot.  At least she hoped it looked apologetic. “I am very sorry to have to do this again Dr, but I really need to take that call.  We need the services they can provide. I promise I will come to see you as soon as I’m done.”

 

Dr. Scot sighed and watched as Charlotte left the office in a hurry.  Charlotte managed to feel a little bad about leaving Dr. Scot once again.  She was a busy woman and the fact that she kept trying to pin down Charlotte, meant that she was concerned.  But Charlotte honestly didn’t have time to sit around and mince words with her. Maybe one day, but she didn’t have that luxury now.

 

Charlotte made it to the communications wing in record time and took the receiver that was being handed to her. “Gentlemen, I’m glad to hear from you.  Let’s talk business shall we?”

 

Maybe things were starting to look up for her after all.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is! The next Charlotte chapter. We hope you enjoyed it! I know it's seeming to take a while to get our girls together to kick ass, but we promise we are almost there. And hopefully, it will have been worth the wait. Anyway, I have to take this time to thank you all so very much for your continued support of this fic. Every kudo, every comment, every hit... they make our day and pushes us to keep writing bigger and better storylines. You all are seriously the best there is and I can't thank you enough for showing up every week to see our girls in action.


	24. Personnel File: Bayley Martinez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Personnel File: Agent Bayley Martinez of the Strategic Homeland Division, Chicago Command.

Workup performed by Dr. Lindsay Scot, clinical psychologist previously employed by the CPD to provide assistance to officers in regards to the mental and emotional ramifications resulting from their performance of duty.  Brought on to the Chicago JTF branch by Division Commander Arn Anderson to provide the same care for both Division Agents and JTF members alike. The following workup was completed after several meetings with the below-mentioned agent.  Further adjustments to this workup will follow pending future sessions.

 

 **Name** **:** Bayley Pamela Martinez

 

 **Rank** **:** Agent

 

 **Status** **:** Active

 

 **Location** **:** Southwestern Chicago Communities

 

 **Commanding Officer** **:** Charlotte Flair

 

**History:**

 

Bayley Martinez is the daughter of second-generation Mexican-American parents, born and raised in the Chicago area. It seems that Agent Martinez led a fairly unremarkable suburban childhood along with her siblings. 

 

When she turned eighteen, Agent Martinez enlisted in the Air Force where she eventually became part of the USAF Special Task Group (Special Forces). She served three overseas tours in the Air Force (one in Iraq and two in Afghanistan). It was during this time period that Agent Martinez had what might be called the defining experience of her adult life.

 

Then Sergeant Martinez’s unit was tasked with fighting their way up a valley to take a crossroads village. Despite being severely outnumbered, they succeeded in capturing their objective. They were then tasked with defending the village for several days against repeated counter-attack. Reports indicate that Sergeant Martinez behaved with conspicuous valor and skill during this period.

 

Unfortunately, shifting command priorities led the unit being ordered to evacuate the area. Knowing this would lead to violent reprisals against the villagers who had aided her unit, Sergeant Martinez was reported for several incidents of insubordination in protesting these orders. No action was taken against her in the end, but the village was later wiped out by Taliban forces.

 

Agent Martinez left the Air Force shortly after this, despite being recommended as a candidate for officer school. She then joined a United States Forest Service Smokejumper crew. She did this for three years before abruptly resigning to pursue her degree in early childhood education. She was working as a second-grade teacher when the Green Poison crisis struck.

 

**Notes:**

 

Agent Martinez might come as a surprise to many observers on first meeting her. The perfectly genuine warmth, cheerfulness, and good nature of her personality are not traits many would associate with a Division Agent. These same traits, I am confident, have often led others to underestimate her. After all, who is easier to dismiss than a naive fool? And this, I believe, is a great error.

 

I do not suggest that there is anything contrived or artificial about Agent Martinez’s personality, anything but in fact. She has a frank and ingenuous candor about her that has worked against her professionally on several occasions. But it is this very honesty that, combined with her demeanor, leads to the underestimation. By all accounts, she’s made others pay for this lapse in various ways her whole life.

 

Agent Martinez appears to have an objection to formally constituted authority in principle, but again, I believe this is deceiving. I believe that her experiences toward the end of her military career have left her highly cynical about such authority, but more than this, she has little respect for those leaders who are cavalier with the lives of others. It seems to me that Agent Martinez attaches her loyalty to the people around her more than to abstract causes.

 

Agent Martinez’s character is not without vulnerabilities, however. Her tendency to connect so deeply with others could prove a cause of great pain in the present circumstances. Moreover, for those who don’t know her, her insistence on adhering to her principles will appear as simple defiance. I anticipate that this could lead to problems with the JTF. 

 

 **Comments From Commander Officer** **: Charlotte Flair**

 

Agent Martinez is a bright, determined and extremely intelligent Agent.  Her ability to withstand enemy fire to provide proper cover with an LMG is currently unrivaled at the JTF and is quite admirable.  Her job is not an easy one, and it requires courage, strength, and tenacity. All of which Agent Martinez has in excess.

 

That being said, Agent Martinez also has an aversion to structured authority and following commands that will put any one person at risk.  This makes commanding her a rather difficult task as she is usually inclined to insubordination when she disagrees with the morality and ethical principles of an order.  

 

Because of this, and her adamant refusal to leave a person vulnerable to attack even at the risk of failing a mission has made her a beacon of hope to the citizens of the city.  Her desire to provide a safe place for everyone is admirable, if not slightly misguided given the current circumstances. Her constantly pleasant disposition and the hope that radiates off of her can, however, provide a different type of attack on the current struggle we face.  Where Martinez may not be efficient in following direct orders provided by her commanding officer, she excels at rallying members of the JTF and bolstering their morale.  

 

While Martinez displays a stubborn unwillingness to yield to any cause except her own, she remains loyal to the oath she took as an Agent and has proven to be an invaluable asset in the field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys earned this! You got us to 2,000 hits! We love writing this story but your amazing response just makes us want to do it all the more! LiteratureLocker and I have big things brewing in Chicago and I think you'll like what we have in store. 
> 
> Keep those comments, kudos, and hits coming!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	25. In the Mind of the Prey - Sasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get a chance to experience the feeling of being hunted by Chicago's most dangerous predator

The man was sprinting for all he was worth. His feet pounded the pavement as he hurdled down the street, moving far faster than was prudent on a street still slick from snow and ice. But he couldn’t be bothered with that now. 

 

He had to escape.

 

He abruptly dove sideways and out of sight to the buildings behind him, taking cover against an abandoned cab. As he pressed himself up against the grill he took several seconds to heave some deep breaths, trying desperately to force oxygen through his body. He’d been running for several minutes and despite being in excellent shape he couldn’t go forever. 

 

“Fucking hell…” he gasped once he had enough wind to speak. He knew he was being hunted but he didn’t know by whom. It was dangerous being a Division agent in Chicago these days. There was no shortage of people willing to try and kill you simply because you wore the ISAC Node. 

 

He heaved several more deep breaths as he cast a desperate glance around him. The street was deserted but all his eyes found were the endless rows of windows all around him. Any one of which could conceal a shooter. Swearing he looked around again and finally spotted an alley between two brownstones. Counting to five he scrambled up to a crouch and then shot across the street, hoping the whole time that he could make it without being shot.

 

He did, and when he was safely between the buildings he hurried over to a door set in one wall. He didn’t know where it led but he knew that being inside was much safer than being on the street. He hammered at the door handle with the butt of his AK and eventually succeeded in knocking it off. Ducking into the building he raised his flashlight and scanned the room, he appeared to be in the back of a large kitchen.

 

Moving quickly he grabbed two large rolling racks and tipped them over in front of the door he’d come in. He then moved quickly through the kitchen and out into the dining area of the restaurant. He saw no threats so he took the time to give the place a once over to see if there was any food he could find. He didn’t come across any, so he left the restaurant and found himself in the building’s atrium. Not wanting to risk the street again he turned left and hurried up the stairs to the second floor. There he located a fire door and began to ascend the stairs.  

 

He figured he’d need to lay low for a long time to throw off whoever was stalking him. He also figured that his chances were better if he drew them into a building rather than out on the street. At least here he could lay a trap. Which he set about doing, once he reached the fourth floor. As he set about fortifying the place he tried to figure out who was chasing him.

 

There hadn’t been more than a single sign, but it had been more than enough. He’d been out walking the territory he usually operated in, taking care of his morning business, when he’d looked up to see it. A single flash from high above in a window, the same sort of flash that might occur from the glint of light off the scope of a rifle. 

 

Who was it?

 

He supposed it COULD be demons, but he doubted this. Stalking silently from on high wasn’t really their style. If they were after him it would have taken the form of a large group of shouting bloodthirsty maniacs. Demons were about as subtle as a car alarm. And while he knew many would want him dead on mere principle, he had taken steps to ensure that it would be less likely. 

 

Who then? He doubted it was the people in City Hall, he hadn’t done anything to provoke them. And it wasn’t as though they didn’t have larger things on their mind at the moment. He’d heard the sounds of the fighting going on along the border between the Administration and JTF territory, he’d seen the aftermath of it with his own eyes. Talked to some of the people who had been involved. It had been intense and nasty, house to house fighting. It wasn’t the Administration and he’d just recently been at the JTF.

 

He shuddered as the inevitable conclusion inserted itself into his mind. He knew who was after him. And the thought made him want to huddle up in an internal room with his gun aimed at the door.

 

The woman known as Straight Fire was the ultimate wild card on the streets these days. The everyday people still clinging on in downtown talked about her as though she were a folk hero. She protected the weak and provided for them as well. He was curious as to how she did so, where she got her supplies not only for herself but to keep others above water as well. By all accounts, she seemed to be feeding several blocks of the city. 

  
Despite her white knight reputation, the agent had seen the aftermath of Straight Fire’s more violent work. He’d seen the bullet-riddled bodies, found the small marks that denoted Straight Fire’s territory. He’d even seen the bodies that had been disposed of more clinically, single shots to the head from a great distance, under even large versions of the sign. 

 

Some believed that the two styles of attacks meant that there were TWO deadly hunters prowling downtown Chicago. He privately doubted this, what were the odds that there were TWO people that deadly in one city. He was a Division agent, he was far more dangerous than any five regular men, but he knew whoever was conducting this private war was far beyond his skill. 

 

He had another reason to believe that the so-called ‘ghost’ was in fact just Straight Fire. He’d heard the rumors. The rumors concerning other Division agents, the ones being found dead. Division agents were supposedly the best of the best, for someone to be hunting them down systematically bespoke unearthly skill and determination. The same skill set of someone who, say, might be single-handedly carving out her own territory in the middle of a war zone. 

 

But for a moment, this made his anger flash. Who hell was this ‘Straight Fire’ to appoint herself judge, jury, and executioner? He, and he was sure those other agents as well, were doing what they had to in order to get by. They had an impossible job and it wasn’t being made easier by some purple-haired bitch’s sanctimony.

 

He was a three tour ranger, let her come. Let her try her ‘Straight Fire’ shit if she liked. He’d be ready. And he spent the next hour turning the floor of the building into a veritable death trap. He all but emptied his pack and belts doing so. There wasn’t a door on the floor that someone could arrive through that wouldn’t lead to death or maiming.    
  
When he finished he allowed himself an idle fantasy. What would it be like to be the one who hung that scalp on his wall? Shit, the JTF would probably reward him for it. Having someone out there raising all sorts of hell and then targeting agents had to be bad for morale. And having that kind of cache, being the one who killed Straight Fire...what other opportunities would open up for him? Only time would tell.

 

He never got the chance to experience this first hand that day. He waited, and waited. He knew that the bitch was probably just testing him but he was determined not only to outlast her but to not give up his fortified position. He settled in one of the offices in the center of the floor, confident that his traps would alert him to any arrivals, and waited. He was nothing if he wasn’t stubborn, he’d wait as long as he had to. 

 

He fell asleep in the building, still waiting. In fact, he woke up in the same position the next morning. When he remembered where he was he swore quietly and stood. He ran a quick check on all his traps and found none of them had been triggered. He frowned at this. Was it possible he’d overreacted to a simple flash in a building? It could have just been the light glinting off a shattered pane of glass. He decided he’d wait until noon if nothing had happened he probably had just been jumpy. 

 

Besides, he had his own business to attend to as well. Business and businesses.

 

He ended up waiting until two in the afternoon without any sign. Sighing, and glad that none of his old buddies from his unit had been around to see him panicking, he disarmed one trap and made this way down to the first floor. As he walked he thought some more on the possibility that he might be the one to take down Straight Fire. And the possible rewards that might accrue as a result. 

 

He was relieved but he wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t about to walk out the front doors. Instead, he made sure to find a side exit that put him in the alley opposite the one he’d entered. He slunk outside and was pleased to see it was overcast, and raining. Not optimal shooting conditions for anyone. He stole the alleyway toward one of its mouths. When he reached it, he saw something that made him smile. 

 

A corpse of a man was lying in the street, his face was painted like several of the local demon gangs. He’d been dead for a while but he also had a rifle still gripped in his hands and a pack on his back. Ordinarily, it would have been suspicious to find such a prize unpicked over, but there were others around him. It looked like they’d been on the losing side of a gunfight. The agent knew that the military types who occasionally rolled through downtown didn’t loot their kills, having access to much better supplies of their own. So he guessed he was seeing their handiwork. 

 

This supposition was the second to last thing that ever passed through his head. The last was a .338 Lapua Magnum bullet. As the right side of his head exploded, Sasha Banks, who had been waiting for the man to emerge from the building since the day before, allowed herself the tightest of smiles.

 

Let’s see Straight Fire do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tried something new here, may never go back to it or maybe I will. That will depend on you guys.
> 
> What did you think? Fun little interlude? Hated it? Want more? Let me know in the comments!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	26. That didn't go according to plan - Becky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Becky continues to hunt for the Ghost with some help from her network. Unfortunately, she's not doing so hot....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is a little late once again. Seems like I'm saying that quite a bit recently. I promise I'll get my life together in time for the next Charlotte chapter! That being said, I will take this time to thank you all for being so amazing. All of the comments, kudos, bookmarks, and hits..... I never thought this story would be getting this much attention when AP suggested the idea. And I am thrilled that I was so poorly mistaken. You all are the best and I wouldn't trade these readers for the world!
> 
> ___________________________________

Becky paced the interior of the building, her fingers fidgeting restlessly as she moved.  Her right hand drifted from her backpack strap to her pistol and back to the strap, where she tightened and loosened the strap several times.   She did this absentmindedly while she looked at the apartment building across the street. It had been a few days since speaking to Kayla’s father Ethan, letting him know exactly what his daughter had been up to while he was out scavenging for supplies.  

 

Becky had basically put the fear of God into both Ethan and the younger girl during that conversation.  This, in theory, shouldn’t have been hard, but apparently, those two were immune to her horror stories seeing as they had both witnessed her work first hand.  Kayla had watched her set bodies on fire, and she had at one point managed to save Ethan from some scavenging Demons a few weeks ago. She was hoping that her simply showing up to their apartment would do the trick, but she seriously doubted it.  Which is why she was standing here, scoping out their building. It wasn’t really something she had time for, but neither Ethan or Kayla had shown up at  _ Tearmann _ to get supplies, so she had to assume that her little pep talk had fallen on deaf ears.  

 

She sighed as she continued to wait, her need to keep moving was eating away at her both mentally and physically, but there was something about these two that made her want to make time to make sure they were okay.  She had no idea what time Ethan usually left to go scavenge, but there hadn’t been much movement from the building in the last two hours.  

 

“ _ Straight Fire, you up?” _

 

Becky sighed.  “Aye, go ahead Storm.”   
  


Toni’s accent came through slightly garbled, which meant she was further out than her usual territory.  “ _ Getting reports of more civilians calling for help on that same channel you’ve been chasing, mate.” _

 

“Fer fuck sake…”  Becky groaned as she closed her eyes.  Her body was exhausted, and her mind seemed to be running a million miles a minute.  It was getting harder for her to concentrate on what she still needed to do. And it always seemed like the second she got any time to herself to settle her mind, someone else needed something, or the Ghost would taunt her again.  

 

A noise from down the street made Becky jump and her brain automatically focused on trying to spot where it had come from.  When nothing else seemed to move, she forced herself to turn her attention back on the radio on her belt.  _ Breathe in…. Hold it…. Breathe out…. _

 

“Where is it?” Becky asked after she emptied her mind and could focus on what Toni was saying.  

 

“ _ Just west of Garfield Park.” _

 

Becky sends one last look over at the apartment building and then starts moving.  “It’s goin ta take me a minute, but I’m goin there now.”

 

There was a sigh over the radio.  “ _ Fire, you don’t have to do this…” _

 

“Actually, Lass… I do.  I’ll call you when it’s done.  I need some help chasin’ down some folk.”

 

“ _ Becky… _ ”

 

Becky turns the radio off.  The last thing she needs is to have Toni squawking in her ear the whole time she was making her way to the park.  It was obvious this was another trap set by the Ghost. They weren’t even attempting to change the transmission they were using.  Which told Becky that they thought she was stupid enough to fall for it, no matter what.  

 

Becky made the next turn as she jogged to the location, ducking into a building to avoid being seen by some Demons on patrol.  Normally she’d dispatch them rather quickly, but trying to get to the park was going to take her a while and she didn’t have the few minutes she would need to put them down.  So she moved around them instead.  

 

About fifteen minutes later, Becky was standing about a block and a half away from the park.  She lowered the binoculars when she determined that there weren’t any civilians in immediate danger.  She took a few seconds to catch her breath as she scoped out the area, deciding on the best course of action.   

 

In the middle of the park, it looked as though a group of Demons had set up a trap for passing civilians.  And from the looks of it, they had been doing it for some time. She checked the count again, and after writing fifteen down for the third time, Becky sighed.  Fifteen would not be an easy number to dispatch, but it was obvious that the Ghost had brought her here for a reason. 

 

Becky closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing.  This whole ordeal with the Ghost was getting ridiculous, and it was beyond frustrating that the sniper seemed to constantly be two steps ahead of her at every turn.  Hopefully once Becky’s network found the people she was looking for, she could balance scales and put an end to this foolishness.  

 

She wasn’t sure what was bothering her the most about this cat and mouse game.  Was it the fact that she was being taunted by someone who was obviously smarter than her and was treating her like a plaything?  Or was it that the Ghost seemed to be using her for menial tasks now… much like the Demon checkpoint up ahead. If anything, the Ghost could clear this park out in about a minute, maybe two.  Which meant that they were most likely testing Becky to see how she would handle the situation. 

 

She grabbed her chem launcher, loaded it with a canister and made her way to the building closest to the park.  She took one last look to make sure she hadn’t missed anything major and then crept towards a tree that would be big enough to both hide her and provide cover.  

 

“ Fág an bealach,” she whispered before she shot the canister right into the middle of the group of Demons.  It broke apart at the feet of about three of them and a cloud of thick white smoke started to fill the area. Becky smiles to herself as the Demons begin to panic and then tossed an incendiary grenade.  

 

The grenade ignites on impact, setting the smoke on fire as well.  Becky smirks as she shifts position. This was becoming way too easy.  

 

Becky found cover behind a barricade that had been set up a little further into the park, and that was when things stopped being easy.  These Demons had either encountered Straight Fire before or had been studying her methods because the ones that weren’t initially caught in the fireball immediately spread out.  There were about ten left and they made sure that they weren’t grouped together and were taking cover.   
  


“Well fuck,” Becky cursed to herself as she unslung her rifle and started taking aim.  She squeezed off a few rounds, taking out a Demon on her right and then shifted. She took cover behind a car that had somehow ended up in the middle of the park, squeezed off a few more rounds, watched that Demon fall, and then moved again.  She kept this pattern up, even as the Demons returned fire.

 

She was mid-movement to a new piece of cover when she felt like she was suddenly hit by a battering ram, sending her sprawling to the ground.  She scrambled to her feet and moved to take cover behind a statue. Her hand shot to the area where she felt the bullet impact her vest and checked for blood.  When she didn’t see any, she turned her attention back to the fight.  

 

She aimed, sent a few more bullets into some Demons, reloaded and moved.  She did this until she was down to the last two. Unfortunately, this battle was taking a little longer than most, and with the pain radiating from her back Becky was slowing down.  Which is why she missed the grenade that had been lobbed in her direction. 

 

The grenade itself wasn’t close enough to hit her with shrapnel when it detonated, but it was close enough that the concussive force of it sent her backward and into a concrete Jersey barrier, knocking the wind out of her and aggravating the already injured area on her back.

 

She slumped to the ground, coughing as she tried to force air back into her burning lungs.  Her ears were ringing and her vision a little hazy. Her eyes managed to focus on the pair of boots that stopped right in front of her face.  They were either brown or covered in mud. Becky didn’t have time to decide before the boot made contact with her face, the force of the kick sending her rolling onto her back. 

 

Becky went to grab for her pistol but yelled out in pain as a second Demon approached from behind and stepped on her wrist.  The first Demon stood over her, his pistol pointed in her face. She gritted her teeth as his buddy ground his foot into her wrist.  “Just a fháil os cionn leis leat píosa cac,” she hissed as she spit in his direction. Somewhere along the line, Becky must have bitten her tongue because the spittle that landed on his shirt was red.

 

He laughed.  “Oh, if the people could only see the great Straight Fire now, what would they say?”

 

Becky smiled up at him.  “They’d tell ya ta suck my cock, ya fookin mog!”   
  
The Demon’s smile shifted to something vile as he picked his foot up and brought it slamming down into Becky’s ribs a few times.  Becky coughed as she tried to curl in on herself to protect her ribs, which earned her a swift kick to the face.  

 

Becky heard the sickening crunch of her nose breaking before the pain slammed full force into her, causing her to grunt in pain as tears immediately formed in her eyes.  She tried to blink them away to glare up at the Demon even as he started to laugh again.

 

He pointed his pistol at her face once more and pulls back on the hammer.  “I’m going to be famous for this.”

 

He leveled the gun again, his finger slipping inside the trigger guard when a loud growl seemed to erupt around them.  Becky watched as the Demon’s eyes grew wide and the pistol was suddenly pointed in front of him. He squeezed off a few rounds, which must have missed their mark because a second later a rather large, black dog barrelled into the man’s chest.  It’s jaw clamped down rather tightly onto the Demon’s arm as they both fell backward.

 

The Demon that was standing on Becky’s arm backpedaled away from where the dog was currently fighting his companion.  Becky took advantage of this, drew her pistol and pivoted so she was facing him. “Get fucked,” she growled before she pulled the trigger three times, watching in satisfaction as he crumpled to the ground.  

 

She then turned her attention to the Demon struggling with the dog and aimed.  Unfortunately, the dog was in the way of her shot, and she didn’t want to kill the animal that had just saved her life.  So she did the only thing she could think of and whistled.

 

The dog immediately released the Demon and sat down as Becky took the opening and killed the Demon before he could recover from the dog’s attack.  

 

Becky watched as the dog got up and slowly approached her.  She could see now that the dog was a “he” the closer he got.  Her pistol stayed up and pointed in the direction of the animal in case he decided he wanted to attack her as well.

 

Unfortunately, with the adrenaline rapidly wearing off now that the fighting was over, Becky’s vision began to swim and turn grey.  She fought against it as much as she could, but one too many blows to the head had her passing out a few seconds later as the dog laid down next to her, his head resting comfortably on its front paws.

  
  


___________________ 

  
  


Becky groaned as her body was jostled against the door of the car as it charged over a large bump.  She tried to settle her breathing and go back to sleep when she remembered that she had been out in the field and had just fought a group of Demons.  Her eyes shot open as her hand immediately went to her pistol.

 

“Oi!  Don’t be pullin that out on me!”

 

Becky stopped her movement, the familiarity of the voice breaking through the haze that still had a hold of her brain.  She squinted up at the driver of the car she was in, recognition starting to seep in as she sees the shocking blonde hair and all too recognizable black and red leather coat.  “Storm? What the fuck?”

 

Toni looked over at Becky in the passenger seat, her face showing exactly how pissed off she was.  “Yeah, you shit head, who else would come to rescue yer sorry ass when you go off and do something stupid?”

 

Becky rolled her eyes and tried to push herself into a sitting position.  She winced and hissed out a breath as her ribs screamed at her in protest.  “Where are we goin?”

 

Toni’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.  “We need to get you checked out, mate. Those ribs of yours could be broken, yeah?  And the cut on your forehead is going to need some stitches.”

 

Becky reached over to grab at Toni’s arm.  “Stop this car and let me out. I ain’t goin ta the JTF!”   
  
Toni batted Becky’s hand away easily.  “No one said anything about the JTF, you idiot.”

 

Becky narrowed her eyes at the other woman.  “Where are ya takin me then?”   
  
“To see Father at the church.”

 

Becky seemed to settle a little with that information.  “They ain't’ got time ta be seein me. Plus they’re almost out of supplies.  Just take me back to the bar and I’ll sleep it off.”

 

“Don’t think so.  You’re going to see the midget, mate.  As much as she annoys the shit out of me with her constant worrying and hovering, we need you to get checked out,” Toni argued.  “And she’s the closest thing we have to a doctor ‘round here. So you’re stuck with her.”

 

Becky huffed as she tried to adjust in the seat again.  “How did ya find me?”

 

Toni rolled her eyes.  “Followed you, you absolute fucking moron.  I told you that you didn’t have to go after that broadcast, but you just don’t listen do you!?”

 

Becky closed her eyes and tried to ignore the blonde.  “Can ya not shout, lass? I’m pretty sure I got myself a concussion.”

 

Toni glared at her.  “You’re lucky you didn’t get dead.  You know full well that the Ghost is just luring you to these places to toy with you.  So why do you go every fucking time?”

 

Becky shifted and winced again.  “What if…”

 

Toni waited to see if Becky would continue, but when she didn’t the Aussie prompted her.  “What if, what?”

 

“What if the one time I don’t show up, it’s not the Ghost and someone gets hurt because I didn’t go?”

 

Toni sighed and looked at her sadly.  “Becky, you can’t be there to save everyone.”

 

“I can try, goddamn it.  The people out ‘ere need it!”  Becky’s arms curled defensively around her ribs as they screamed in protest to her moving so much.

 

“Lay back, you idiot.  We’re almost there and the last thing we need is you making things worse,” Toni shook her head.  

 

She looked over at the redhead.  “Seriously though, you know they’re just trying to run you down right?  They’re testing you and trying you to see just how good you are. You have to know that, right?”

 

Becky nodded as she looked out the window.  “Yeah, I know Storm. But I gotta be there in case…”

 

“Okay,” Toni reassured her.  “Okay, Becky. I’ll leave it be.”

 

“Thank you, Lass.”

 

The rest of the trip to the small building a few blocks to the northeast of Becky’s bar was made in a kind of awkwardly tense silence.  That is until a huff came out of the backseat.

 

“Fookin hell!”  Becky tried her best to turn in her seat without doing too much damage to her injuries.  “What the fook!?”

 

Toni chuckled. “He wouldn’t leave you.  Almost bit my hand off when I went to try and get you into the car.  When did you get a dog? And a Bauerceron at that? Thought those were rare over here…”

 

Becky looked down at the center console as the large head of the black and brown dog plopped down, its tongue lolling out of its mouth as it looked up at Becky.  Becky looked up at the blonde quizzically. “I didn’t. I ain’t ever seen this bloke before in me life.”

 

Toni smiled as she reached over and scratched him behind the ears.  “Looks like ya got one now, mate.”

 

Becky watched the beast cautiously. “You can ‘ave him, Lass.  I don’t need a dog.”

 

The dog disapproved and expressed it with a loud bark.  Becky shifted the best she could to stay away from him. “Okay, or not.  Good doggo…”. Becky reached out and awkwardly patted him on the head.

 

Toni just laughed as she pulled her car into the back parking lot of the church they were heading to.  She opened the door and greeted the middle-aged man who approached. “Father Michaels,” she smiled at him.

 

Shawn Michaels walked over to the car and opened the passenger door as he waved at Toni.  “Always good to see you, Storm.”

 

He knelt next to Becky after the door was open.  His nose crinkled in distaste when he saw the blood on her face.  “Rough day?”

 

Becky shrugged one shoulder.  “No worse than usual Father.”

 

He scoffed and reached in to help Becky slide out of the car.  “Easy does it, kiddo. Let’s get you inside to see the Doc.”

 

Becky bit her tongue to keep from cursing in front of the older man.  It had been a while since she set foot inside a church, but her Irish Catholic roots taught her to always respect a man of the cloth.  So respect Father Michaels she would. When she heard a scrambling coming from the backseat, Becky turned her head and pointed at the dog.  “Stay.”

 

The dog whined but sat back down, his head cocking to the side as he watched Becky limp away.  

 

Between Michaels and Storm, they were able to get Becky into the church with relative ease.  Even though Toni and Becky were roughly the same height, Father Michaels was a good five inches taller than both of them, and still in relatively good shape.  

 

Becky slumped onto the cot they had set up in the room they had designated as the infirmary.  The door opened a second later and a short woman with a grin on her face entered. She took one look at Becky and whistled low. 

 

“Ouch, Becks.  That doesn’t look fun.”

 

Becky narrowed her eyes at her.  “Who ya tellin Doc?”

 

Kacy Catanzaro shook her head as she approached.  “Other than the laceration above your eye and the obviously broken nose, what else hurts.”

 

“Nothin.”

 

Kacy simply raised an eyebrow.  “I’m not above calling the JTF and telling them to come to collect you. You’re technically their problem and I could stand to hold onto the supplies.”

 

Becky sighed miserably.  “Fine. Ya play dirty though, especially fer a doc—“

 

“Med student,” the shorter woman interrupted.  

 

Becky rolled her eyes.  “Tomato, potato. But since ya threatened so nicely, my ribs feel like they’re on fire.  My back hurts too.”

 

Kacy nodded and gently lifted Becky’s shirt before she poked at the bruising around her ribs and back.  Becky hissed but tried to hold still for the other woman. She hated being the patient, but Kacy always tried to take care of her when the situation arose…. like now.

 

Catanzaro nodded after a few minutes of examining the injured area.  “Ribs are definitely broken, back’s just bruised. I’ll wrap your ribs and get the sutures for your eye.”

 

Becky lowered her shirt and exhaled as she nodded.  “Thanks.”

 

“Don’t thank me yet.”

 

Becky looked up at the other woman, the confusion obvious on her face.  Faster than should have been possible, Kacy’s hands were up around Becky’s nose.  Becky barely had time to register the movement before Kacy shifted her hands and forced Becky’s nose straight again.

 

“In ainm Dhia! mac soith ag cur cac fucking ar bríce! Sin fucking Gortaítear!” Becky howled in pain.

 

Kacy’s eyebrows rose.  “Better not let Father Michaels hear you talk like that.”

 

“Too late.”

 

Both women turned to look at the door, Kacy with a shit-eating grin and Becky looking a little sheepish.  “Sorry, Father,” Becky mumbled as she looked at the floor.

 

Father Michaels pointed to his own slightly crooked nose.  “Been there so I know language  _ that _ colorful is acceptable.  You have someone here to see you.”

 

Becky looked up and her brows furrowed as a large woman with long brown hair and tattoos covering her body walked into the room.  “Fucking hell, you look like shit Fire.”

 

Becky rolled her eyes.  “And ya look like a fresh summer mornin ODB.  What do ya want?”

 

The older woman adjusted the bandana on her head and then put her hands in her pockets.  “Got some intel for you.”

 

Becky sat up straighter at that.  “Oh? Let’s hear it.”

 

ODB raised a single eyebrow.  “I’m not Storm, therefore I don’t work for free.”

 

Becky groaned.  “What do ya want?”

 

“The Redbreast 21 I saw behind the bar last time

I was there dropping off supplies.”

 

Becky narrowed her eyes. “If the Intel is good, ya got it.   _ But _ I get ta decide if the info is good.”

 

ODB shrugged.  “The Ghost you’ve been hunting?  She uses two idiots for her intel.  They hang out over in the Little Village area.  They go by Shad and JTG, both over six feet and are built.  Also, the word is they rarely shut up.”

 

Becky’s smile spread across her face slowly.  “The 21’s yers mate. Always comin through fer me.”

 

ODB nodded once and then left.  “Oh, I dropped you some more supplies and took my usual,” she called over her shoulder as she left.

 

Becky watched her go.  That woman was a pain in her side, but she always finished the work that Becky needed doing.  

 

Becky turned to look at Kacy as she approached with a syringe of anesthetic.  She grabbed the other woman’s wrist before she could inject Becky’s laceration.  “Save it, Doc.”

 

Kacy looked at Becky seriously for a few seconds. “Okay, if you insist.”

 

Becky nodded.  “I do. Someone else can use it.  Where’d ya get it anyway?”

 

Kacy put the syringe down and reached for the sutures.  “New scavenger in the area. Chaz something or other. He hit a hospital a while ago and this was part of the inventory he had left.”

 

Becky hummed and then exhales slowly as the needle entered her skin.

  
  


______________________

 

A few days later, Becky chuckled to herself as she lifts the hoods off the two men she now had chained to chairs bolted to the floor of the warehouse.  “Gentlemen, let’s talk about this Ghost shall we?”

 

The two men looked at her, the fear and confusion battling for dominance on their faces. “We don’t know anything about the Ghost,” one of them protested.

 

Becky winds up and punches him in the face.  “Loyalty is admirable gentlemen. But in this case, it won’t help you.  We’re in a place where you can scream all ya like and it won’t bother anyone.”

 

The other man was looking at his friend as he spit out blood.  “We don’t know the Ghost! Why do you think we know the Ghost!?”

 

“Ah, see… I’m glad ya asked.  Word on the street is you two run info fer them.  So I’ll ask ya again. How do I find tha Ghost?”

 

“We don’t know!”

 

Becky punched the other one and then smiled at them.  “Yer really set on makin this fun fer me ain’t ya?”

 

They shared a look.  “We’re not lying! We don’t know the Ghost!”

 

Becky sighed and unsheathed a knife from her boot and then started stroking the blade while she looked at them.  “Ya know I can do this all day.”

 

“Listen, lady, all we know about the Ghost is what we hear on the street. Same as you.  We don’t run for them, we run for the Administration!”

 

Becky shrugged and slowly dragged a blade across one of their forearms.  “Ya sure about that, Shad?”

 

She turns to look at the other one.  “Or are you Shad?”

 

The man she had just cut was grinding his teeth together.  “Who?” He hissed out.

 

Becky stopped and stood upright.  “What?”

 

The man on her left looked up at her with furrowed eyebrows.  “Who the fuck is Shad!?”

 

Becky now looked really confused.  “One of you is.”

 

“No!  I’m Angelo Dawkins and that’s Kenneth Crawford!”

 

Becky studied them.  “So yer not Cryme Tyme?”

 

They both shook their heads.  “No! We’re the Street Prophets.”

 

Becky leaned back a little and crossed her arms over her chest.  “Huh. That’s uncanny is what that is. You two match their descriptions to tha letter.  Well, this is awkward, gents.”

 

She reached down and started to unlock the chains on the chairs.  “My apologies then. I would say I owe ya one, but ya run fer Sammartino, so consider you gettin out of ‘ere alive my apology fer this really easily made mistake.”

 

The two men got up and scrambled out of the warehouse as fast as they could.  Becky just watched them go, a look of disbelief on her face. “Well that was embarrassin,” she said before she shrugged and went back out to find the real Cryme Tyme.

  
  


————————-

 

The next day Becky was back in her warehouse, two large men strapped to the chairs in the middle of the floor.  She grinned evilly as she slowly pulled their hoods off. “Take two,” she said as she winked at Shad.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Just a fháil os cionn leis leat píosa cac," -- "Just get it over with, you piece of shit."
> 
> "In ainm Dhia! mac soith ag cur cac fucking ar bríce! Sin fucking Gortaítear!” - "In the name of God! Son of a bitch who fucking shit a brick! That hurt"


	27. Hanging on by a Thread - Bayley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The residents of the school live under constant threat, will Bayley be enough to stave it off?

Bayley sighed heavily as she dropped down onto the bench in the school’s women’s locker room. Every muscle in her body hurt and her eyelids felt like they were made of sandpaper. How long had it been since she’d actually had a full night’s sleep? Bayley tried to count back, but her foggy mind wasn’t up to the task at the moment.

 

Bayley had been running as many as three different ops a day for a long time now. The work was never-ending, no matter how many supplies she brought it in they never seemed to get ahead of the need. No matter how many scavengers, looters, or others she cleared out of the area, more popped up. She was beginning to strongly empathize with Sisyphus.

 

Bayley knew that she was flirting with disaster every time she went out now. She knew she was tough, didn’t need to prove it to anyone, but she also knew her limits. Sure, she could probably handle any punk with a pistol she might come across but her odds diminished with each sleep-deprived day. And that wasn’t even addressing the issues of poor diet and lots of stress. Sometimes she just wished she would find herself waking up safely in bed having only dreamed the last few months of crisis. Never any such luck, unfortunately.

 

But, she reminded herself, it wasn’t as though she had nothing to be thankful for. She was alive, and that was more than thousands of former Chicagoans could say. She had a, relatively safe place she could sleep at night and food available...usually. At least they had as much water as you could want. They even had reliable power.

 

But more than the material things, the settlement’s whole mood was lifting. Despite the dangers, despite the hardships, despite it all, things felt like they were looking up. It was very characteristic of her that she was unaware of how much of this change was due to her efforts. Bayley was more inclined to attribute it to the exceptional work being done by the people around her. In particular, she was pleased to see how much impact Nattie was having on the settlement. The woman was a born leader and Bayley saw it every day. She and Bobby Roode were proving to be extremely effective at running the school.

 

But even this triumph was tinged in some sadness. Nattie had been Bayley’s mentor when she’d first begun teaching, and that relationship had grown into a real friendship with time. But it seemed that was in the past now. Bayley was more or less running the tactical side of things for the settlement so she formed part of an informal ‘council’ that made key decisions. This meant that she and Nattie saw each other on a semi-regular basis. 

 

It wasn’t that they ever had any problems working together. They were actually working very well as a unit. But that was it. Nattie never addressed Bayley as anything other than ‘Agent Martinez’ and never addressed her at all outside of these meetings. This hurt Bayley more than she could express. It was hard to see and work with someone you’d been so close with only to find you’d suddenly become strangers in their mind.

 

Bayley had sincerely believed that Nattie would be great for the settlement when she’d recommended her to Bobby. But she’d also had a selfish reason for bringing it up. Not only had she wanted Nattie in a safe place, but she’d also hoped to bring a friend into the settlement. Bayley liked all the people she worked with, she liked most people and respected them too. But most of the settlement held Bayley in a kind of awe which was occasionally useful but often isolating. 

 

Almost as much as she wished she could get a full night of sleep, Bayley wished she had someone to talk to. At least, someone who wasn’t intimidated by her. Bayley was a very social creature and this kind of deprivation was hard on her.

 

Sighing again, Bayley managed a soft smile. Despite her concerns, she was still grateful on the whole. And she had one of the few perks her life afforded her to look forward to now. She’d already put her LMG into her locker and secured it with her extra belts of ammo. Then, with almost infinite relief, Bayley unstrapped her helmet and lifted it off her head. The sudden rush of cooling air was, perhaps, the most refreshing feeling she’d ever experienced. But it was about to get better. Reaching down she undid the heavy-duty velcro and straps that held her vest snug, lifting it over her head she set it into her second locker. Bayley wore a heavy vest with attached shoulder armor, she’d just removed over forty pounds of weight.

 

For a moment, she just luxuriated in the feeling of pure freedom that this always brought. Without realizing it, Bayley slumped sideways onto the bench and let out a slow sigh. In her previous life, she’d thought removing her bra at the end of a long day was as good as it could get. But that was nothing on this.

 

Maybe Bayley was significantly more tired than she was willing to admit. It was at least possible because the next thing Bayley knew she was jerking back to wakefulness at the sound of a familiar voice.

 

“Uh, Agent?”

 

“I wasn’t sleeping!” Bayley gasped as she shot upright. She felt some moisture at the corner of her mouth and wiped quickly at it. As she did she looked quickly around to find who had spoken. Her eyes eventually fell on Dakota Kai, standing at the end of the locker bay.

 

“Um...OK…” Dakota said, her brow furrowed.

 

“What...what, ah...can I do for you, Dakota?” Bayley asked, tugging at her hair as she tried to assume a more dignified pose. Trying and failing.

 

Dakota, bless her heart, pretended as though it was working. “Bobby wanted to know if you wanted something to eat. You weren’t in the cafeteria when the food got served.”

 

Bayley tried to lurch to her feet at this but ended up falling back onto the bench. Grumbling she undid the velcro on her thigh pads and tossed them into the locker. “I’m so sorry, Dakota, I’ll hurry up there. Can you tell them I’m on the way?”

 

Dakota just shook her head and smiled. “No need, you’re getting some time off.”

 

Bayley just shook her head sadly. “I wish,” she said as she stood and rolled her head from side to side. She was trying to appear energized, but she ruined the effect by yawning. 

 

“You wish, but we insist,” Dakota said, with a small smile.

 

“What?”

 

“Well, uh…” Dakota’s smile suddenly faltered a bit “...The council was talking and they figure that if you don’t take better care of yourself we’ll be out our Sheriff. So it was decided to give you a day off.”

 

“Don’t be silly, I can’t take a whole day off. We’ve got at least four priority ops that need to get handled right away. Besides...it was decided by whom?” Bayley finished with a quizzical glance.

 

“Well...Bobby and Ms. Neidhart…” Dakota said before looking sheepish and adding “...And the school’s chief medic…”

 

Bayley gave Dakota a look. “So...you?” she asked, eventually. She kept her face stern but only with a great deal of effort. Dakota occupied this important-sounding post by virtue of a year of nursing school. Bayley, having been given military first aid training, was probably more qualified than the younger woman but she was indispensable elsewhere. 

 

“Yeah…” Dakota said, sounding almost apologetic.

 

Bayley thought about arguing, judging by Dakota’s expression it was what the Kiwi was expecting her to do. But then Bayley’s vision actually swam slightly in front of her, maybe she really was pushing a bit too hard. She sighed and held up her hand.

 

“Alright, alright, I’ll go eat and then hit the rack. But I want you guys to wake me up if there is any kind of emergency!” she said sternly. Dakota agreed readily and then, after Bayley finished stowing her gear, they made their way a flight of stairs and into the cafeteria. There she ‘enjoyed’ a Lunchable for dinner before Dakota almost frog marched her off to her room.

 

After she’d been staying with the school for a few weeks, they’d tried to give Bayley a bigger room than the literal closet she’d been stowed in at first. But by then she’d grown to like the space, it was cramped but Bayley had decided to look at it as cozy. She’d even managed to grab the odd bit here and there to decorate the place. But she had no attention to spare for the decor at the moment. Fatigue was fast overtaking her and it was all Bayley could do to aim herself at the cot as she fell forward. She was dead to the world the moment she landed.

 

She had the strangest dreams, so surreal that they were occasional disturbing. But as soon as one could coalesce it would vanish into smoke and another would take its place. As was the way of dreams she was never really aware of the time that had been passing. All she knew was that at some point she was dimly aware of a distant buzzing in her mind. She tried to ignore it but it seemed to get louder and louder. 

 

Bayley groaned and rolled over on her cot, only to be pulled back. It was then that the buzzing was speech. Someone was talking to her. But she was trying to drag her sleep fogged brain up from a great depth, so the words made no sense at first. She blinked at the person speaking to her, no shouting at her, for awhile not even recognizing who it was. Then a hand collided with her cheek. With that, the sound seemed to return to the world.

 

“AGENT! WE NEED YOU AT THE WALL! NOW!” one of her squad members was bellowing at her. Bayley blinked several times before she finally grasped the words. When she did, she stood up quickly and looked around. 

 

“My kit!” she said urgently, thinking of her LMG down in the locker room.

 

“We’ll bring it up! For now, take this,” he squad member said as an MP5 was pushed into her chest. When Bayley took it she also accepted a pair of spare magazines. Without another word, Bayley darted out the door of her room, made a hard left and charged toward the front doors of the school. Now that she was awake she could hear the sounds of gunfire coming from outside. She gave a fleeting moments though to the fact that she didn’t have any armor on, but pushed it aside. Now wasn’t the time.

 

Burst out into the cold night, Bayley took stock of the situation, it wasn’t good. She could see several of the settlement’s residents heaving against the gates of their makeshift wall as they seemed to be trying to open inward of their own accord. Looking up she saw more of her squad. Several were fighting with unknown figures on the firestep while others were shooting down to the outside. It took Bayley only a moment to take this all in, then it was time to act.

 

Sprinting toward the gate, Bayley ordered the woman had woken her to go help the others trying to keep it closed. She did this as she took the stairs leading up to the firestep two at a time. When she was up on the platform, Bayley raised her MP5 and fire a single shot into the back of an attacker grappling with one of the door guards. Kicking her dying target away from the guard she charged past the pair. Her gun up as it spat death twice more.

 

The actual wall came up to her midsection as she ran along the firestep. She could see a large crowd of people below. They seemed to mostly be trying to force the gate but she also saw that two ladders had been set against the wall and that others were lining up to climb them. The situation was bad, the only saving grace being that the attackers didn’t seem want to shoot up at the wall so long as some of their own were there. 

 

Bayley worked diligently to clear a section of the wall just to the left of the gate. She was careful with her fire, only shooting in short bursts or single shots. The MP5 was one one of the many automatic weapons that the school had managed to capture but she wasn’t carrying much ammo. She couldn’t afford to blaze away. 

 

Once she’d evicted the attackers from the wall she killed the next three who appeared at the top of the ladder. This was enough to convince the other people standing below to stop climbing, and this was the opportunity she’d been hoping for.

 

“Help me!” Bayley barked at one of her men standing on the wall, shooting down at the attackers. Grabbing hold of the ladder Bayley began heaving it upward, intending to pull up and over the wall and thus prevent it being used as a way to get over the wall. The man joined her and an odd tug of war ensued when the people on the ground realized what was happening. Bayley didn’t much care so long as they didn’t start shooting. 

 

They did just that after a few moments but not before Bayley and two other people were able to wrench the ladder upward and over the parapet. It came so quickly that Bayley was sent stumbling backward and down onto her butt, which probably saved her life. Several bullets ripped through the air where she’d been standing a few moments before. But she couldn’t dwell on this as she rolled over and came up in a crouch. 

 

It had only been a few minutes since she’d come out through the doors, but the situation was deteriorating. Bayley had plugged one hole, but more attackers were still coming up the second ladder it sounded as though the gate might give at any moment.

 

“AGENT MARTINEZ!” someone screamed from the direction of the school. Bayley spared half-second to look and saw that two people had emerged carrying her gear. 

 

“One second!” she shouted back as she emptied her current magazine into a woman who had just crested the ladder. Slapping a fresh one into the weapon she hande it off to one of the wall guards, who had been fighting with a pistol, along with her last magazine. She dropped down from the firestep and landed in a crouch, ignoring the shouting and groans of the people trying desperately to keep the door closed.

 

She knew she only had a few moments. 

 

She sprinted as fast as she could toward the door where two of her buddies were standing with her gear. “Help me!” she said urgently as she held her arms out and let the others put her vest on. She could do this herself but not in nearly enough time. She told them to forget about the thigh pads as she jammed her helmet onto her head and hefted her Shrike. It felt as though it was made of solid lead after carrying the MP5 but she needed it’s firepower now. Accepting a second belt of ammo she hung it around her neck and waddled toward the gate.

 

When she was standing about fifteen feet from the gates she shouted: “Let them in!” All eyes turned her, even in the dark she could see the stunned looks on their faces. “DO IT! Get ready to fight!” Bayley bellowed in her sergeant’s voice. It only took a moment, but just as her people began scrambling away from the doors they flew open. Bayley had a fleeting glimpse of at least twenty people crowding into the gate before she opened fire.

 

The Ares Defense Shrike 5.56 Light Machine Gun was a remarkable instrument of precision destruction. Bayley’s particular model was configured to fire from either pouch magazines or directly from a belt. In both cases, it could fire as fast as 600 rounds per minute. Even though Bayley had only 150 rounds to work with at the moment, that would be more than enough. The attackers stood pressed together in the gateway, never stood a chance.

 

It was a textbook fatal funnel. Bayley opened fire and kept her trigger down. She usually fired in controlled bursts to prevent her weapon from rearing up like a startled horse. Her weapon did that now, but Bayley used every ounce of strength she had to keep the muzzle down, a process aided greatly by her forward pistol grip. 

 

Overall, LMG’s were not designed for precision accuracy. But at this range, with so many people clumped together, Bayley couldn’t miss. Her gun roared and roared as bullet after bullet ripped into the tight mass of humanity in the gates. Several of the attackers opened up a return fire, but they were being jostled and then being killed. A few of the bullets struck Bayley, but her heavy armor turned the small caliber rounds. 

 

Bayley just kept shooting and shooting. At some point, her people joined in as well but she didn’t notice. When her magazine finally ran dry, the gates were choked with bodies. Of the twenty or so attackers that had been trying to bumrush the gates a few moments before, over half were lying on the ground now. The others were in full retreat.

 

“Should we chase them?!” one of the guards asked Bayley.

 

“No, leave them. We need to get that gate repaired right away,” Bayley answered. She slung her Shrike and drew her sidearm as she advanced to make sure that the bodies in the gate weren’t any threat.

 

“Why didn’t they keep charging after you had to reload?” someone else asked.

 

“It’s a good theory, but who wants to keep running forward into this?” Bayley answered dryly as she jerked her head toward the shrike. When she was satisfied that the attack was over, Bayley issued several orders before announcing she would take the first shift guarding the gate while it was being repaired. She watched several of her people began scavenging weapons, ammo, and other supplies from the dead before she was joined by Bobby.

 

“Any dead?” Bayley asked.

 

“No, just some wounds. Thanks to you,” he answered.

 

“No, it was thanks to all of us,” Bayley said, loudly enough for the guards to hear her. Bobby nodded in approval, seeing what she was doing. “I’m sorry you didn’t get your night off Agent, as soon as we get the door taken care of we’ll get you your time.”

 

“It’s fine…” Bayley said. She was wide awake now thanks to the adrenaline. But after a moment she turned back to him and asked: “Incidentally, how long was I asleep?”

 

“About forty minutes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Sometimes the adult aspect of my life has the affrontery to interfere with my writing!
> 
> Anyway, you guys continue to astound us here on the 51 team. You like us! You really like us! Keep those comments, kudos, and books mark flowing my friends!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	28. The Doctor is in - Charlotte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another exhausting few days for Charlotte. Oh, and Dr. Scot finally catches up to the Commander, and things don't exactly go Charlotte's way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again folks.... another week, another chapter. You guys are amazing! I can't express how grateful AP and I are that you're reading this story! We thought this story was going to be read by a few people, but ultimately we thought that this was going to be mostly for us. You have truly surprised us with your love and support. Every like, comment, and kudo means the world to us and we cannot thank you all enough We know that the build-up has been kind of slow to getting our girls to interacting and I promise we're getting close.... and it will be worth it. So until then, please accept my love and eternal gratitude for you, our amazing readers.
> 
> ___________________________

Lacey Evans sighed as she leaned up against the rear of the vehicle she and her partner Zach Ryder had been issued to complete the trade with the Revival. The Commander had been contacted a few days ago by the gun runners who had then solidified their trade agreement they had made at the gala.  The Commander had then tasked her and Ryder with the job of delivering their crates of food, medicine, water, and electronics.  

 

“You think the Commander is right?”

 

Lacey turned her head to look at the front of the vehicle, where Ryder was sitting behind the wheel.  “What?”

 

Ryder swung his legs out and turned so he could look at her.  “With how she’s taken over and how she’s running things. Do you think she’s doing well?”

 

Lacey walks to the front of the vehicle.  “I do. I think she’s doing the best she can with what she was given.”

 

Ryder rolls his eyes.  “You just have a hard-on for her, admit it.”

 

Lacey’s face showed her disgust.  “I don’t! I just admire what she’s done and what she’s trying to do.”

 

Ryder rolled his eyes and sighed.  “Yeah, I guess.”

 

Lacey’s eyes narrowed as she studied her partner of over three years.  She knew that tone of voice coming from him. Spending that much time riding in a car with someone will make any two people close.  “You don’t agree?”

 

He shrugged.  “I mean…have you heard what the IIconics have been saying?”

 

Evans scoffed.  “The Administration?  Really?”

 

“Hey!”  He protested.  “What Sammartino is saying sounds like a solid plan.  I think it might be worth a look, at least hear them out.  I mean think about it, Lace. We could be real cops again.”

 

Evans shook her head.  “What he has isn’t a plan to take back the city.  It’s a power move to bring everyone else to heel while barely lifting a finger.  Tell me, this plan he has?  Why haven’t we seen any of his so-called cops or division agents out here helping?”

 

Ryder shrugged.  “Maybe it’s just taking them a while to organize. The announcement of the election was only two weeks ago, so maybe it’s just taking him a minute to get everything together.”

 

“Shouldn’t he have done that before he made the announcement?” she asked with the raise of an eyebrow.

 

“It would’ve been helpful for sure, but it’s not always necessary to have the plans in place before revealing what you intend to do. I still think he’s a better bet.”

 

“Than the JTF?  This was your idea, to begin with, and now you just want to abandon ship?  Why?” Lacey demanded to know, her arms crossing over her chest as she leaned against the side of the vehicle.  

 

“I don’t think this new Commander is going to cut it.  She’s barely keeping us afloat as it is. And she’s not making any real improvements,” he explained with a noncommittal shrug.  “I’m not the only one who thinks so either. A lot of the guys at Headquarters feel the same way.”

 

“And you think Sammartino is the better camp at this point?”

 

“I do,” he nodded.  “Imagine if he could bring the other factions under control, wouldn’t working for him be worth it?”

 

Lacey sighed as she shook her head.  “No. Because then we’d all be stuck living under his control.  And that won’t be any kind of world we would want to live in. We’re better off sticking with the JTF.”

 

“With the Commander who doesn’t seem to have a plan?” Zach asked, his face showing his skepticism.

 

“I think Commander Flair, if given time, could really turn this city around.”

 

“Hard on,” Zach coughed into his fist as he smirked at her.

 

Lacey chuckled as she turned her back to Zach, her eyes checking their surroundings for possible threats.  She never heard the footsteps moving behind her, but she definitely felt the blow on the back of her head. Her eyes rolled back as her body crumpled to the ground.

  
  


_____________________

  
  


 

Charlotte tried to calm herself down as she walked towards the infirmary.  She had just gotten off the radio with the Revival, who were none too pleased to have come under fire at the meeting point.  Whoever had led the attack had managed to not only keep them pinned down, but they managed to make off with the Revival’s weapons  **_and_ ** the supplies Charlotte had set aside to trade for the rifles.  

 

Apparently, Evans had been knocked out before the trade and woke up in time to help the Revival escape the area, which is the only reason they had decided to raise her on the radio at all.  Lacey had somehow managed to convince them that the JTF had been double-crossed as well and that it wasn’t the Commander doing the double-crossing. Granted the “conversation” had been very one-sided with a lot of yelling and name-calling, but Charlotte kind of understood their frustration.  She was feeling it as well.

 

She was feeling a lot of things at the moment.  None of the things were positive. She would have to work hard at reforging a line of communication with the Revival after that embarrassing show of attempting to deliver the supplies.  Especially with what Charlotte suspected happened.  

 

Charlotte walked over to the bed that Lacey was sitting on as Dr. Bevis stood behind her and stitched closed the minor head wound.  Evans looked up and immediately tried to stand up.  

 

“Oi!  Hold still!”  Paige protested as she grabbed Lacey’s shoulder and pushed her back onto the exam table.

 

“Sorry,” the blonde mumbled as her eyes watched Charlotte approach.  “Commander, I am so sorry.”

 

Charlotte came to stop in front of her.  “What the hell happened?”

 

Lacey winced as Paige went back to stitching.  “One minute I was talking with Ryder and the next I was struck from behind.”

 

Charlotte looked at Dr. Bevis.  “Damage?”

 

Paige cocked an eyebrow without looking up.  “It was a blunt object, most likely a pistol grip.  It caused a minor concussion and a minor laceration that’s only going to need a few more stitches.”

 

Charlotte looked back to Lacey.  “Please tell me it wasn’t who I think it was.”

 

Lacey’s shoulders slumped.  “I think so. He was the only one there.  Plus he had been talking about reaching out to the Administration.”

 

“Fuck,” Charlotte cursed quietly.  “So you think he took the supplies and rifles as a peace offering?”

 

“Yeah, I just don’t know why.  Zach had been so adamant about joining the JTF when the police department fell,” Lacey explained.  “It was an idea he had when the JTF first showed up, but I convinced him to stay with the police until we couldn’t hold downtown anymore.”

 

Charlotte sighed.  This is not what she wanted to hear.  It was bad enough that the trade had gone so horribly, but to have it be one of her members…that was worse.  It also didn’t make the blow hurt any less that the supplies and rifles were now in the hands of Sammartino. He was probably laughing at her right now for how stupid she looked in this blunder. 

 

“Take the next few days off and follow the Doctor’s orders,” Charlotte said as she put a hand on Lacey’s shoulder before she turned to leave the infirmary. 

 

“Yes ma’am,” Lacey called after her, still sounding too eager for Charlotte’s liking.

 

Charlotte managed to make it all of ten feet before she was intercepted by a very disgruntled looking Kairi Sane.  “What can I do for you, Doctor?”

 

Sane didn’t say anything as she thrust a piece of paper into Charlotte’s hands.  The Commander looked down at the list of medical supplies they needed.  She looked back up at the smaller woman. “Seriously? What Naomi got for you a few days ago is already gone?  How?”

 

Kairi simply pointed at a table that had one Curt Hawkins laying in it, a bandage to his ankle, shoulder and left side.  

 

“Do I want to know?.... You know what? Don’t tell me, I really don’t,” Charlotte sighed.  “I’ll have these supplies to you in a few days.”

 

Sane nodded and then finally spoke up when Charlotte turned to leave.  “Go see Dr. Scot. I’m not going to ask you nicely again.”

 

Charlotte turned back to look at her.  “That was asking nicely?”

 

“When you keep avoiding her and your obligation to sleeping… yes, that is how I ask nicely.”  

 

Charlotte watched the doctor walk away and towards another patient, suddenly wondering if she should be more afraid of the usually jovial surgeon.  “Gotta remember to never piss her off,” Charlotte muttered to herself as she walked out of the infirmary and back to her office.  

 

Charlotte walked through the door to her office and couldn’t stop the groan that escaped at seeing Rhea Ripley sitting in the chair across from her desk.  

 

The Aussie chuckled.  “Bad day, Commander?”

 

Charlotte sighed.  “When do we have a good day around here?”

 

“Right you are.  And unfortunately, I’m about to make it worse.  The generators, they're acting all wonky-like again.  We need new ones until we can get the solar panels set up.”

 

Charlotte nodded.  “Perfect. How long do we have on these generators?”

 

“A week tops,” Rhea winced as she delivered the bad news.

 

“Great…okay.  That moves generators to the top of the priority list,” Charlotte said as she sits behind her desk.  

 

Charlotte sat there and stared at the list of medications that Sane gave her, and then she looked at Rhea as an idea formed in her head.  “Would the generators they have at a hospital work for what we need?”

 

Rhea nodded immediately.  “Those would be perfect if we could get our hands on them.”

 

Charlotte smiled, “you let me worry about that part.  You just be ready to put them to use once I get them.”

 

Rhea nodded as she stood up.  “I’ll make sure we are up and ready for the upgrade.”

 

Charlotte nods, “I’ll let you know when we have the generators for you.  Probably a few days, but I’ll grab as many as we can find.”

 

Rhea shakes her hand.  “Thank you, Commander,” she says before she walks out the door.

 

Charlotte immediately turns and starts studying the map of the Chicago area, looking for the specific targets she would need to get this done in one shot.

  
  


____________________

  
  


Charlotte smirked as she dropped a piece of paper on the table and handed the person a cup of coffee.  “Long day, Vega?”

 

Zelina yawned and accepted the coffee.  “Late raid last night for one of your squads.  They got into a bit of a jam and needed some support.”

 

Charlotte frowned, “why wasn’t I told about this?”

 

Zelina shrugged.  “Because I know you, Charlotte.  Two tours together as your unit’s preferred support UAV operator and you think I can’t see how tired you are?  It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle>  Besides, the scavengers split off once my drone showed up. And everyone from our team is safe.”

 

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at the much smaller woman.  “It’s because we served together that I know you know I like to be kept in the loop about things like this.”

 

“I know, which is why I went to tell you, but you were finally asleep in your bunk.  I wasn’t about to be the one to wake you up,” Zelina sighed. “I haven’t seen you look this tired since we had to do those three back to back missions to exville those wounded marines in the Shorabak District.  That op was what? Seventy-two hours non-stop?”

 

“Something like that, yeah.  But it had to be done, so we pushed through.  Just like this has to be done.”

 

“But at what cost?” Zelina bit back almost immediately.

 

“At whatever cost necessary, which is why I need a scouting report on this location,” Charlotte points to the piece of paper she had placed on Zelina’s desk.  

 

“You’re deflecting, but I’ll let it slide.  What’s this?”

 

Charlotte sighed.  “It’s the Rush University Medical Emergency Center.  Engineering is about to lose the generators and we need new ones until we can get the solar panels in place.  Plus it’s near several other doctors’ offices so we can hit those at the same time.”

 

“The usual workup ?” Vega asked as she turned and started figuring out the coordinates for the location, which was easier for her drone’s GPS than street addresses.  

 

“Yeah, but if you can get it done sooner rather than later, that would be preferred.”

 

“When?”

 

“Next day or two, if it’s possible?” Charlotte asked, a layer of hope in her voice.

 

Vega nods.  “I can get it done.”

 

“Thanks,” Charlotte turns to leave.  “You just got a new set of coordinates sent to you.  Anything I should know about?” she asked as she pointed at the screen in front of her.

 

Zelina turns to look at her screen and stills momentarily before she awkwardly shakes her head.  “Nope, just having some patrols send me some intel points of interest to better our maps.”

 

Charlotte’s brow furrowed at how… off her friend sounded.  “Okay then. Let me know when you’re done with the workup?”   
  


Zelina nods and holds up the cup of coffee.  “You’re a lifesaver.”

 

Charlotte smiles, “I know!” she tosses over her shoulder as she walks away.  

  
  


__________________

  
  


Two days later, Charlotte is sitting in the briefing room, her eyes burning with how tired she is.  She shuffled through the paperwork that was in front of her, making sure she had all of the operational issues covered.  Vega’s report had been solid and showed a very minimal Administration presence in that area, which meant that the hospital itself would probably be relatively empty.  

 

She took to staring at the wall, her eyes barely able to focus completely on the paperwork anymore.  All she really had to do at this point was to wait for Knight’s squad to show up. Which only took a few more minutes.

 

Naomi and her squad filed into the room and sat around the table, all of them watching Charlotte expectantly.  Charlotte continued to stare ahead for a few more seconds before she blinked a few times and looked at the assembled squad.  

 

“Thank you for coming.  I know that I’ve been pushing your squad pretty hard these last few weeks, but this mission cannot wait.  We need to acquire several generators for Ripley in engineering. If we don’t we will be out of power by next week.  Dr. Sane has also requested a list of medical supplies that we need in the infirmary as well,” Charlotte grunts as she stands and walks to the front where the map is located.

 

She points at the highlighted spot.  “That is why we will be hitting the Rush University Medical center.  Inside the hospital, we should find the generators we need and hopefully the medical supplies that have been requested.”

 

“Knight, you take most of your squad to find the generators. I’ll take two with me and we'll look for the medical supplies that have been requested.  I want this to be a quick mission if possible, nothing too complicated since the Administration’s presence there is minimal,” Charlotte explained as she placed several schematic pictures on the table in front of them.  

 

“Any questions?” she asked after they all had time to look over the plan.

 

When everyone shook their heads, Charlotte nods, “meet up in the vehicle bay in an hour.  Dismissed.”

  
  


__________________

  
  


Several hours later, Charlotte hobbled into the infirmary, obviously favoring her right leg and with multiple lacerations on her face, neck, and arms.  She settled herself into a chair to wait for Dr. Bevis and tried to ignore the glare that was being drilled into the side of her head by Naomi.

 

“What the hell happened to you?” Paige asked as she approached.

 

“Nothing,” Charlotte grumbled as she crossed her arms over her chest.

 

“Oh no you don’t,” Naomi immediately protested.  “You tell her the truth, or I will.”

 

“I fell down some stairs.”

 

Paige blinked at her a few times and then turns to look at Naomi, who nodded and shrugged.  When Charlotte didn’t expand on that explanation, Naomi took over. “Little miss ballerina over here wasn’t paying attention to anything around her for most of the mission.  Her focus was all over the damn place and her hand-eye coordination was basically non-existent. She tripped over a fucking dead body and went down at least a full flight of stairs.”   
  


Paige sighed and turned to Charlotte.  “How did you miss seeing a dead body?”

 

Charlotte shrugged.  “I don’t know, I just did.”

 

Paige studied her for a few seconds.  “How long did you sleep last night?”

 

“A few hours.”

 

“And the last time you ate a full meal?” Paige asked.

 

Charlotte shrugged, “yesterday I think?”

 

Paige nodded and then shared a quick look with Naomi, who nodded as well.  Paige then did a quick assessment of Charlotte’s injuries and concluded that she had only sprained her ankle.  Paige wrapped it in an ACE bandage and then sent Charlotte on her way with some pain killers.

 

“You don’t have to walk me to my office,” Charlotte grumbled as she limped along the hallway.  

 

“Oh, but I do,” Naomi countered as they made the last few turns and stopped outside the office door.  “See? That was rather painless, wasn’t it?”

 

Charlotte rolled her eyes and opened her office door, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw Dr. Scot already sitting in there with a tray of food in front of her.  “Dr. Scot, what a …surprise.”

 

Charlotte turned and glared at Naomi, who simply winked and pushed her into the room.  “You need this girl. Everyone thinks so. So listen to the good doctor and I’ll see you later.”

 

Naomi looked at Dr. Scot.  “I’ll make sure you aren’t disturbed.  Good luck!” she waved as she closed the door and pulled a chair up next to it, intent on keeping everyone out.

 

Charlotte sighed as she hobbled over and sat in her chair behind the desk.  She narrowed her eyes at the other blonde. “There’s really no way out of this for me is there?”

 

Dr. Scot didn’t answer, not verbally. Instead, she simply slid a piece of paper across the desk toward Charlotte. Above a long block of complicated medical writing was the title: ‘Certification of Unfitness For Continued Duty’. 

 

Charlotte blinked a few times and re-read the paper to make sure she didn’t misunderstand the situation.  “You can’t be serious right now. You’re threatening me with an Unfit for Duty order?”

 

Dr. Scot shook her head. “No, I’m asking you to help me find a reason NOT to sign that.”

 

Charlotte sighed.  “What are you suggesting?”

 

Dr. Scot once again didn’t answer verbally. Instead, she slid the tray of food across the desk toward Charlotte. “That you work with me on this so I don’t have to start making decisions for you.”

 

Charlotte looked at the food and then back to Dr. Scot, her jaw clenching minutely.  “Again, what are you suggesting?”

 

“How much sleep are you getting a night? On average?” Dr. Scot asked.

 

“Three hours, sometimes four,” she shrugged noncommittally.  

 

“Try again.”

 

There was a rather long pause, during which Charlotte started to squirm in her chair a bit.  “Two.”

 

“And how many meals a day, HOT meals on average?” 

 

Charlotte glared at her.  “Two.”

 

“I see…” Dr. Scot said as she took a few bites of her own tray “...And how many hours a week do you take off?”

 

Charlotte doesn’t touch her tray and just remains silent.  There is no way that this woman was serious right now. She had to have been living under a rock if she honestly believed Charlotte had time to take off during the day.  She barely had time to sleep, eat and shower.  When was she supposed to take time for herself?  She did that, and people died.  And that was simply unacceptable. She settled on cocking an eyebrow instead.  

 

Dr. Scot chucked at this. “Less than you should is what we’ll say.” She chewed thoughtfully for a few moments in silence. “I assume an intelligent woman like you does not need me to explain why these circumstances are not only insane but unsustainable?”

 

 “And I assume an intelligent woman such as yourself doesn’t need to be told exactly why I need to keep going at the pace I’m going,” Charlotte answered quickly.  

 

Dr. Scot chuckled again at this. “Apparently they don’t train you in soft positional bargaining in the Air Force?”

 

Charlotte looks disinterested.  “No, actually they didn’t. There was no point in bargaining.  There was the mission and that was it. We oftentimes had to sacrifice our health and safety to succeed in that mission, but it was worth it.”

 

“Then this will be for your edification then,” Dr. Scott said. “In this situation, Commander, I have something you want. You have something I want. However, as I possess the power to remove you from duty against your say so, I do not actually have to compromise. So it’s in your best interest to be as accommodating for me as possible so you don’t walk away with nothing.”

 

“I’ll bite,” Charlotte finally sighed.  “What is it you want, exactly?”

 

“Eight hours of uninterrupted sleep a night, three hot meals a day, twelve hours a week of R&R, AND regular checkups with Sane or Bevis,” Dr. Scot said without looking up from her food.

 

 “No way.  That’s unacceptable,” Charlotte immediately responded, her arms crossed over her chest.  “I can’t maintain this place on a schedule like that.”

 

Dr. Scot’s only response was to tap the piece of paper still on Charlotte’s desk and then go back to eating.

 

Charlotte turned her head away from the Doctor to try and calm herself down.  She honestly did not have time for this. “Four hours of sleep, as many hot meals as I have time for, three hours of R&R, and no checkups with Bevis or Sane.  They’re already busy enough as it is.”

 

Dr. Scot simply took another bite.

 

“Four hours of sleep, two hot meals a day, four hours of R&R and still no check-ups,” Charlotte tried again.

 

“I suppose you’ve considered the very obvious fact that working MORE is not necessarily working BETTER. Just because you’re awake longer and working during that time doesn’t mean you’re working efficiently.”

 

Charlotte groaned.  “Better or more, efficiently or not.  The fact of the matter is that it has been proven in the last few weeks that regardless of what I want my schedule to be, this job dictates it to be something completely different.  So this whole ultimatum is pointless. I can promise you any number I want, it doesn’t mean that I will be able to uphold it. Tell me, Doctor, do you honestly believe I enjoy sleeping only two hours a night?”

 

“Yes,’ Dr. Scot said frankly before she clarified. “Or, rather, you like NOT feeling how you imagine you will if you get more. You like to feel that you are at least appraised if you’re awake, even if you aren’t involved. Regardless, you never addressed my concern. You are a liability in your position if your faculties are not at their peak. As, for example, you proved tonight at the hospital.”

 

“Oh for fuck sake,” Charlotte exhaled in a huff.  “Naomi exaggerated the whole thing. It was an accident.  It had nothing to do with how tired I was or how long ago I last ate.  My foot got caught up on the body and I lost my balance. It’s that simple.”

 

Dr. Scot did not seem impressed with this. “How did your meeting go with Mr. Dreamer this evening?” she asked innocently.

 

Charlotte paused and blinked a few times.  “My meeting with Dreamer? That’s not until tomorrow.”

 

“Today actually, while you were away. He was not pleased. Incidentally, you also missed your meeting with Specialist Vega the day before. And you will recall the incident last week when some traders from Soldier Field showed up for an exchange that you had forgotten was going to happen,” Scot explained mercilessly. 

 

“No, wait a minute.  I didn’t forget all of those.  Some of them had to be postponed because of other emergencies going on,” Charlotte desperately tried to explain.  

 

“The Commander’s utter exhaustion might qualify as such, yes,” Dr. Scot said mildly. 

 

Charlotte hung her head in defeat.  “Four hours of sleep, two hot meals a day, and seven hours of R&R a week.  That is the most I can give you.”

 

Dr. Scot sighed. “SEVEN hours of sleep a night, three hot meals a day, ten hours of R&R, AND a weekly check-in with medical staff.”

 

Charlotte contemplated how far she wanted to push the doctor.  She glanced at the paperwork on her desk and chewed on her bottom lip.  She knew that the doctor was only trying to be reasonable, but these were not reasonable times.  Charlotte closed her eyes for a second to gather herself. “Five hours of sleep, six hours of R&R, I’ll concede to the weekly checkup, but I won’t budge on the food.  You’re lucky I’m even offering two.”

 

“YOU’RE offering?” Dr. Scot asked with a raised eyebrow. She was quiet for a few moments as she seemed to ponder Charlotte’s words. “Six hours of sleep a night, nine hours of R&R a week, three meals a day with one eaten here, and a weekly check-in with not only the medical staff but myself.”

 

Charlotte pauses for a while, her eyes searching Dr. Scot, obviously looking for something.  “No, you don’t understand. I won’t eat three hot meals a day. There are plenty of supplemental rations I can sustain myself on for the time being.  That is not a negotiable number.”

  
  
She sighed and rubbed at her face.  “The number of families that have been coming here for food and shelter has gone up exponentially in the last two weeks.  And we’re barely managing to stay ahead of the ration supplies. I refuse to take a hot meal away from a child, so the number will remain at two.”

 

“A noble sentiment, but if the JTF commander is not at her best, the meals will cease entirely...for everyone. However…” Dr. Scot said as she held up a finger to silence Charlotte who was opening her mouth to protest “...Remember that we are bargaining…”

 

Charlotte nods, “okay then.  Five hours of sleep a night, two meals a day, seven hours of R&R, and that weekly check-up with both medical and you.”

 

Dr. Scot finished her Salisbury steak and then looked up at Charlotte. “Do better.”

 

“Six hours of sleep, two meals, eight hours of R&R, and the weekly check-up,” Charlotte offered, a look of distaste on her face.

 

“Six UNINTERRUPTED hours barring a crisis, eighteen hot meals a week, eight hours of R&R, and both weekly check-ups,” Dr. Scot countered with a half-grin.

 

Charlotte chuckled.  “You may have to define crisis to everyone here to get me those uninterrupted hours.” 

 

She sighed.  “Six hours of uninterrupted hours of sleep, fourteen meals a week and nine hours of R&R.  Oh, and the checkups of course.”

 

Dr. Scot pondered. “Sixteen meals, one of which is taken with one of your personnel in the chow hall and you have a deal.”

 

Charlotte stilled and stared at her desk again.  She sighed. “I understand what you’re trying to accomplish with that newest request.  But they need a place that is just theirs, where the big, bad commander won’t come in and make everything uncomfortable.  That is another point in which I am unwilling to budge.”

 

“Nor am I,” Dr. Scot countered. She thought for a moment and then made a suggestion. “That meal can take place here or another room, but you need to start getting to know these people on a personal level. You can start with the department heads if you like.”

 

Charlotte considered her options and then nodded.  “I think that’s probably the best I’m going to get.  Six hours uninterrupted sleep, fourteen meals a week, one of them eaten with a department head, nine hours of R&R and the checkups.” 

 

“I think I can make that work,” she said as she nodded again.

 

“The number was actually sixteen…” Dr. Scot said lightly.

 

“Caught that did you?” Charlotte asked with a smirk on her face.  “Fine. Sixteen. But at the first kid who looks at me with sad eyes and asks for more, I’m dropping that number back down.”

 

“No, you won’t. If it means that much to you, I will give up a meal a week. The Commander needs to get hers in,” Dr. Scot said firmly.

 

“No,” Charlotte cut in immediately.  “I will not have my people cutting their meals unnecessarily.  You, Xia, Naomi, Evans, Bevis… hell, even Hawkins all have critical roles to play here.  Though if I’m being honest, I haven’t quite figured out Curt’s yet…” 

  
  
She shakes her head and refocuses.  “For you all to perform those duties and play those roles, I need you all operating at the highest level.  You can’t do that if you’re not eating enough.”

 

She holds up a hand when a smug look crosses Dr. Scot’s face.  “I know what you’re about to say, and yes I hear myself. But understand, you all are the cogs in the machine.  The machine won’t work if the cogs aren’t well oiled. Therefore, I need you all to be well-rested and fed.”

 

“And the commander doesn’t need to be?” Dr. Scot asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Not as much as my people need to be.  I spend most of my time doing paperwork behind this desk.  I can do that on limited sleep and rationed food,” Charlotte attempted to explain.  

 

“Sixteen meals a week even if all the sad orphans of the world line up in front of you, and I’ll have that in writing,” Dr. Scot said flatly as she flicked her eyes down to the paper between them.

 

“You’re seriously about to sideline the acting Commander over two meals?”  Charlotte asked with a raised brow.  

 

“Try me,” was all Dr. Scot said in reply.

 

Charlotte studied her again.  “Where the hell did Arn find you?” she mused to herself mostly.  

 

“Fine, sixteen a week.  Are you happy now?” Charlotte shook her head and huffed out a breath.

 

“Almost,” Dr. Scot said as she took a sheet of paper out from under her tray and handed it to Charlotte. On it was a contract spelling out the exact numbers they had just agreed to.

 

Charlotte looked at the paperwork, a look of disbelief on her face.  “Are you kidding me? What the hell just happened?”

 

“You really should look into soft positional bargaining, Commander,” Dr. Scot said with a shrug.

 

“Apparently I should.  Maybe I’ll find a book to read during my R&R hours,” Charlotte grumbled as she signed the paper.  “Though I feel like my word would have been sufficient enough.”

 

Dr. Scot smirked. “And to make sure these conditions don’t simply slip your mind, Mr. Owens has made some adjustments to your SHD watch. It will now transmit biometric data on REM cycles to the medical staff.”

 

“You have got to be kidding me.  Seriously?” Charlotte balked at how far this woman was willing to go.  “Next you’ll tell me that it’ll shock me if I don’t get enough time in for R&R…”

 

“It’s an idea, but you can thank Dr. Sane for this idea. She had some skepticism about how willing you’d be to cooperate.” Dr. Scot raised an eyebrow then as she nodded to Charlotte’s tray. “Going to finish that?”

 

“Do I have a choice?” Charlotte asked with her own raised eyebrow.

 

“Sure you do, but if you don’t eat it the next person up here will be an angry Japanese woman who could also certify you as unfit.”

 

Charlotte sighed again and pulled the tray closer.  “Is it fair to say she legitimately scares me?”

 

“If it helps, it’s not just you,” Dr. Scot said as she picked up her tray. “Thanks for lunch, Commander,” she added before leaving the room with her signed contract.

 

Charlotte simply watched her go and wondered what the fuck had just happened.  She’d have to keep her eye on Dr. Scot from here on out. A manipulation that well thought out could possibly spell trouble for Charlotte in the future.

  
  
  
  



	29. A Fly to the Web - Sasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha Banks continues testing Straight Fire for her own mysterious ends...

Considering where her mood had been just over a week ago, Sasha Banks was now having a very good time in life. She’d managed to collect another ISAC Node, she had a line on another high priority target, and she had a new pass time. 

 

Toying with a folk hero. 

 

The more time Sasha spent with her ear to the street the more she realized how the legend of Straight Fire had grown. Those residents of Chicago who were not JTF, Division, or a member of the factions had elevated the woman to the level of a patron protector. Brigid’s knot had begun popping up all over Chicago, spreading out of downtown at an alarming rate. It was a practice that left Sasha shaking her head at the irrationality of the average homo sapien.

 

Whatever significance the symbol might have within Straight Fire’s AO (an area that Sasha had narrowed down to a group of neighborhoods in downtown) it didn’t stretch indefinitely. Straight Fire might come running at the mere mention of some knots, but those outside of downtown offered no sort of shelter. Quite the opposite in fact, because they tended to draw any wannabe tough guys hoping to be the one who took down Straight Fire. 

 

Yet, the symbols continued to multiply. Sasha often suspected, given her low estimate of Straight Fire’s intelligence, that the redhead had no idea what kind of movement she had started. But, that didn’t mean it couldn’t suit Sasha’s own needs.

 

Sasha’s current favorite pastime was the almost comically easy task of baiting the other woman. At first, she’d only done this to amuse herself. Baiting Straight Fire into snares or traps. These had included dropping the other woman into a basement, surrounding her with tripwires, catching her in a rope snare, and other things that had made Sasha smile. 

 

But then it occurred to her that she might be able to do more with her fun. Even though Straight Fire seemed to have all the subtlety and intelligence of a charging bull, she seemed to be as dangerous as one as well. So, Sasha had conducted an experiment to see if she might harness the other woman’s destructiveness, rather as one might use a team of oxen.

 

Sasha had done what she always did to attract Straight Fire. She’d set a large Brigid’s Knot on fire and used pre-recorded comm chatter she’d captured over several months to simulate a group of civilians under attack. Sure as night follows day, the other woman had come charging headlong to the scene. 

 

Of course, Sasha had also lured a band of Demon’s to the area with the same radio calls. She’d then watched the battle unfold. The results had been spectacular, if slightly predictable. Nine Demons from one of the local groups had appeared, all armed to the teeth…

 

Straight Fire had gone through them like a chainsaw through cotton. 

 

Yet, none of it made sense. The woman took every single bit of tactical wisdom and summarily ignored it as she’d taken insane chance after insane chance. Yet, perhaps because of the sheer idiot audacity of the thing...it worked. By all rights, Straight Fire should have have been dead a dozen times over, yet she was the only one to walk away from the confrontation. 

 

Sasha had been intending to try and glean something about Straight Fire’s style in her observation. Yet when she finally had her first data point she was, in a very rare occurrence for her, struggling to find the word to describe what she’d seen. In the end, she’d settled on ‘dervish’. Straight Fire was a cyclone of destruction, spinning through a battlefield flinging gunfire and an array of improvised explosives in seemingly random directions.

 

It was chaotic, it was reckless, but it was effective. At least in this instance. But Sasha was a scientist, and she hadn’t had as much schooling as she had without learning about the evidentiary standard. One instance was hardly statistically significant. Sasha needed more data before she could draw any kind of meaningful conclusion.

 

So it was in this spirit that she’d baited Straight Fire into a collision with an administration checkpoint. The results had been, if anything, more impressive. Straight Fire had not only put down the whole Administration Force, but she’d relieved them of their Technical as well. So that was two points of data Sasha had collected. Interesting as this was, it was still only two. It was hardly a significant pattern.

 

That had been two weeks ago and Sasha was now overlooking a Demon nest, hoping that the pattern she’d drawn from five data points she’d collected thus far would hold. Because it wasn’t just an interesting experiment for her today. She was counting on harnessing the power of the raging torrent that was Straight Fire today.

 

Sasha smiled as she panned her rifle down the other street her position overlooked. She would recognize that head of hair anywhere. It was a standing source of wonder to her that she was still able to so easily bait the other woman. Sasha had been thinking that she would surely have to change her methods at some point. But Straight Fire had never stopped responding to her bait. 

 

Very interesting. Though it hardly mattered.

 

Sasha watched the ensuing battle with smug satisfaction. Straight Fire was performing up to her expectations. This particular group of Demons had managed to distinguish itself for its aggressiveness and depravity, even among the other Demons. This would have been more than bad enough but they had also been growing their numbers at an alarming rate. It wasn’t hard to understand their appeal, those they didn’t butcher were given the choice to swell their ranks or join their victims. 

 

The monsters sitting at the center of this nest of horrors were a brother-sister pair known as Paul Burchill and Wynter. Burchill was known as ‘the ripper’ for all sorts of unpleasant reasons. His sense of barbarism was so profound that Sasha had diverted herself from her usual hunting of rogue Agents to put him and his equally sadistic sister down like the animals that they were. 

  
Her dilemma had been that neither of them left their fortress very often, and when they did they were extra cautious. Sasha had actually been impressed by their good sense, even as it had vexed her. Thus, why she’d brought Straight Fire here today. Her reasoning was simple enough, based on her observations if anyone could flush her prey from its den...it was Straight Fire. 

 

Just like a good hunting dog.

 

Sasha guessed there might as many as twenty-five Demons in the Burchill’s fortress, a former department store. Straight Fire was facing extremely long odds, and Sasha knew there was a better than even chance that the other woman might not survive. What mattered for Sasha’s purposes was that she force the Burchills to evacuate. 

 

A loud explosion from across the street brought a small smirk to Sasha’s lips as the fighting began in earnest. Sasha knew that it would probably take Straight Fire some time to sow enough chaos to scare the Burchills into running so she decided to find her own ways to pass the time. So, to the sounds of gunfire and explosions across the street, Sasha turned on the radio.

 

And in the city of Chicago these days, there was really only one thing on the air.

 

“ _...Peyton! Tell me, what is the WORST part of living after the green poison?”_

 

_“What is that Billie?”_

 

_“Say it with me now!”_

 

_“NO MORE BRUNCHES!!!-”_

 

Sasha turned the radio back off. The Administration’s propaganda station was the only thing you could get on most radios because the group had seized control of two huge transmitters and cranked their power to full. Before the crisis, FCC regulations had prevented this kind of thing so that stations with large transmitters didn’t blot out others. But, that was obviously not an issue any longer.

Sasha had to admire the cunning of the scheme. Sammartino was a very shrewd man, knowing that those who wanted to stay in power would be wisest to show an open hand as well as an iron fist. He’d even enlisted two well-known radio hosts from before the crisis, Peyton Royce and Billie Kay (collectively known as the IIconics), to fill the air with his propaganda. Or at least, Sasha had heard they’d been well known, she’d never really listened to the radio and their particular brand of squawking didn’t make her want to now.

 

All thoughts of this fled her mind when a huge section of the building she was watching suddenly caved in. 

 

Sasha was all business as she squinted at the destruction. The whole scene was obscured by a rising tide of brick dust but it was clear what had happened. The fact that the gunfire continued from below also told Sasha that Straight Fire was still fighting. This was enough to impress Sasha despite herself, she hadn’t anticipated that the woman would bring down most of the building while she was still in it. Then again she might be giving the redhead too much credit, it had probably just been an accident.

 

Deliberate or not, Sasha wasn’t going to look this particular gift horse in the mouth. If anything would be enough to force someone out of a building, Sasha had to believe it would be a large part of that building falling in on itself. She braced her rifle against her shoulder and watched for any sign of movement. When she finally saw some, it wasn’t quite what she’d been expecting.

 

She was watching the main entrance and exit to the store when BOTH her targets burst out onto the street. Sasha took a heartbeat to confirm what she was seeing before centering the crosshairs of her scope on Wynter’s chest. She was preparing to blow out her breath when a stream of gunfire from inside the store caught Wynter between the shoulders. Down she went.

 

“KATIE!” Sasha could hear his shout from the street as Burchill turned to gaze in horror at his either dead or dying sister. He was forced to dive behind cover a moment later as the shooting from inside the store continued. He was carrying a very nice looking rifle complete will all sorts of attachments and now he put it to use, sending a stream of bullets back toward the store.

 

Aside from having learned Wynter’s actual name, Sasha was mentally adjusting her opinion of Straight Fire upward...slightly. Apparently, the other woman had managed to fight her way through all the Demons and still drive the Burchills out of the store. 

 

Some Agents, she knew, would have been frustrated that Straight Fire had taken one of her kills. But Sasha wasn’t just any agent. She was a professional. As long as both Burchill siblings were dead she didn’t care how it had happened. Though as she watched the firefight below her, it seemed the elder one might escape yet.

 

She could see Straight Fire now, crouched just inside the front door of the department store. Sasha only got glimpses of her face and chest when she popped up to fire at Burchill but the other woman was looking very rough. Her face was smudged, bruised, and bleeding from a cut on her cheek. Her clothing was torn and she was moving like someone who was dealing with an injury to her side.

 

She was also out of ammo. 

 

Sasha watched as the woman dropped her rifle and began popping away with a sidearm. Sasha felt a small rush of condescension toward Straight Fire as she observed that the woman’s shooting was not very good. In fact, it was a standing wonder to her that she had somehow passed the Division Agent training course. 

 

Straight Fire’s enthusiastic but errant shooting quickly exhausted her supply of pistol ammo as well. Sasha saw her think about running but Burchill’s fire kept her pinned in place. The man was moving now, slowly crossing the street, only firing enough to keep Straight Fire pinned. Sasha caught a brief glimpse of his face before the angle made this impossible and she saw that he was taunting his victim.

 

No doubt he was savoring the revenge he would take on Straight Fire for killing his sister. Then he would be planning on how to rebuild his gang. He paused a few feet from where Straight Fire was still sheltering and must have ordered her to stand. Sasha guessed this because a moment later the redhead surged out from her hiding spot, roaring loud enough for Sasha to hear it several stories up. The redhead seemed to be intent on dying in the charge. 

 

Maybe she was, but it wasn’t to be. Because as she charged, Burchill’s face burst outward as the rifle round drilled through the back of his head from above. Straight Fire came to a skidding stop as red ichor suddenly covered her face and front. She gave a disgusted jerk as she clawed at the scraps of human flesh stuck to her person.

 

She froze abruptly as Sasha keyed the laser on her rifle, strobing it across Straight Fire’s face. The other woman knew Sasha was here now, and Sasha was fairly certain that Straight Fire would realize precisely who was watching her. Sasha kept the laser on the other woman for a few more moments before she turned it off. She was out of the area only a few minutes later, but as she went she was working inexorably toward a simple conclusion.

 

Perhaps it was time for a meeting.

 

\----------

 

Sasha had made all her preparations. 

 

Her desire to meet with Straight Fire had only increased when she’d heard from an irate Shad and JTG. Apparently, the redhead had run the two down to ask some ‘questions’. Sasha gathered from their complaining that these questions had not been gentle. Straight Fire seemed to believe that by roughing up the two men, she might draw an emotional response from Sasha. 

 

She wouldn’t, though Sasha had to admit she was impressed. She wouldn’t have thought the other woman capable of such thinking.

 

Shad and JTG were useful to Sasha, but she didn’t have any kind of attachment to them. The two men seemed to assume that one existed, but that was their affair. Had Straight Fire killed them, Sasha would simply have found others to run her errands. However, Straight Fire’s actions did represent an interesting opportunity. Because Straight Fire BELIEVED she knew how Sasha would react. 

 

And so, Sasha had rigged all sorts of surprises into one of the park ramps she used as a location for meetings. Now it was time for her to wait for the fly enter her web. She’d had Shad and JTG get in touch with the other woman a few days before. They’d delivered a carefully crafted message to Straight Fire, designed to make the other woman believe they were acting out of bitterness toward Sasha for not helping them. 

 

Given the almost pathological need to play the hero she’d seen in the other woman, Sasha had no doubt her prey would come to her. 

 

And speaking of. A flicker of motion on one of the camera feeds she had streaming to her eyepiece made her grin. 

 

“Enter the fly…” she said as she stood up.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	30. Fire and Shadow - Becky and Sasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Straight Fire enters into the lair of the ghost, who will emerge victoriously?

 

 

Sasha was standing on the third floor of the parking structure, she was staring at a small monitor she had set up for herself. It showed the feed from a spy camera she’d set up on the ground floor. As she watched, Straight Fire herself stepped onto the parking ramp.

 

Sasha found herself somewhat...disappointed by what she saw. She’d seen the woman before, of course, she’d been observing her for some time now. Yet, in person, the other woman’s short stature (so at odds with her larger than life reputation) was even more of a letdown. Sasha wondered again at how this tragically mundane appearing person had accomplished so much.

 

But she pushed this aside, it was time for the dance to begin.

 

Sasha had hidden radios throughout the parking structure the day before. When she activated them, they would all transmit simultaneously. In a building like this one, the acoustics would turn her one voice into a legion of overlapping echoes. It would be impossible for the other woman to guess where Sasha might be speaking from. 

 

“Behold, Straight Fire appears…” she said a sibilant whisper that nonetheless began to bounce around the inside of the garage. It sounded as though a whole chorus of Sasha’s were speaking.

   

Becky immediately dropped into a crouch and moved to cover behind one of the nearby cars.  Her rifle was up and moving with her eyes as she scanned the area around her. She knew that this meeting could be a trap, that it could be the time that the Ghost finally pulled the trigger and ended it.  But it was a risk she needed to take. This song and dance had to come to an end. And Becky preferred it to be now instead of later.

 

“Hidin’ in the shadows like usual, huh?  How ‘bout ya come out and face me,” she called out into the parking garage.

 

Sasha just chucked into the radio, everything she’d observed of the other woman told her that it would infuriate the other woman. “Ah, two statements in and you’ve descended to childishness...how quaint.” The response was predictable, Sasha would have been surprised if Straight Fire had said anything else. 

 

When she’d finished speaking, Sasha picked up a small device from the floor next to her. It was a simple remote control for a child’s RC vehicle. She flicked the control sticks forward once, sending a signal to the toy one-floor below her. The toy truck lurched forward, knocking over the small stack of empty cans she’d piled in front of it, sending them clattering to the ground. 

 

Becky spun in a tight pivot, her rifle pointing towards the sound and her finger twitching outside the trigger guard.  She took a deep breath and listened for another sound. When nothing else happened she exhaled slowly and flexed her trigger finger to try and loosen some of the tension that had seized her hand.

 

She scanned the ceiling, focusing on the corners specifically.  If this was how the Ghost wanted to play it then there was a good chance she had cameras set up to watch Becky’s movements.  Deciding it was better to err on the side of caution for this one, she pulled out a canister and let it fly. A thick white smoke started filling the parking garage, and even though it wasn’t enough to cover the whole area, it might make it harder for the Ghost to track her movements.

 

She darted to another car and then to a box truck that she ducked behind.  “Games? Is that what we’re doin’ here? More of yer pointless head games? I ain’t got time fer this!  Come out and face me ya coward!”

 

Sasha, who had moved down the second level now, took a deep breath as she stood near the central ramp of the structure. Among Sasha’s many skills she had mastered ventriloquism. Most people thought of talking dummy’s when they bothered to consider the subject at all, but it was actually quite useful. Among the more esoteric aspects of the skill, it included the ability to throw one’s voice. Sasha could stand before someone and without her lips seeming to move, sound as though she were speaking behind them. 

 

Though the parallel with the manipulation of a dummy struck her as quite amusing as she juxtaposed it against her current situation. Enough that she smirked as she relocated to the second floor of the ramp.

 

“Oh come now…” Sasha chided without the aid of the radio “...surely the hero of the people can do better than juvenile name-calling.” To Straight Fire, it would sound as though Sasha were speaking from somewhere on the first level. 

 

“Mother fucker,” Becky growled as she leaned out around the truck and looked for where the Ghost was supposed to be.  She was hesitant to move because everything so far had been an auditory trick. She picked out another car to take cover behind a little closer to where the Ghost’s voice was coming from and decided to move there.  The closer she got to the Ghost physically, the harder it would be for her to use her sniper rifle. It wasn’t a great plan, but it’s the only one Becky could think of in that moment.

 

“Ya ever considered that tha people think of me as their hero because I use juvenile name callin?  Might make me more relatable,” she called out once she was hiding behind her new cover, her eyes always up and scanning.  She flicked her thumb over the safety and made sure it was off… just in case.

 

“Do they indeed?” Sasha asked as she activated yet another control. This one activated a tiny blasting cap she’d attached to one of the broken overhead lights on the ground floor. There was a popping sound before the light came crashing down to the floor. Sasha used the noise as cover to re-enter the stairwell. 

 

“Perhaps they deserve better?” she added into her radio.

 

Becky jumped at the sudden loud noise, her grip tightening on her rifle as she ducked back behind cover.  She took a few seconds to calm her breathing and then scanned the area again before she turned and started up the ramp to the second level.  

 

“Maybe they do,” Becky agreed.  “Who were ya thinkin’? Cause I don’t think you’d cut it, sweet cheeks.”

 

Sasha didn’t answer at first. She had stepped onto the ground floor and was fiddling with her radio. She set it to transmit only on the 3rd and 4th floors as she took cover behind a truck.

 

“I’m afraid I don’t possess the rampant myopic egotism necessary to do what you do. How does it feel to be the placebo dealer to the masses?” she asked.

 

Becky stopped moving towards cover, leaving herself exposed for a second.  Her face scrunched in utter confusion. She tried to make sense of the gibberish that had just come out of that insufferable woman’s mouth.  

 

She shook her head and kept moving to the car at the top of the ramp she had been heading towards.  “Tha fook ya just say? Maybe this is why everyone’s scared of ya, Lass. They can’t understand ya. How ‘bout ya just speak English?”

 

Sasha smirked as she keyed her radio again.

 

“ _B'fhéidir gurbh fhearr leat labhairt ar do leibhéal? Is contúirtí meargánta é duine de na daoine mórthimpeall orainn. Níl sé liomsa.”_

 

 _“Tá mé go bhfuil baol meargánta? Ní dóigh liom é._ Ya fookin eejit!  I ain’t the one running around out here settin marks on fire and drawin attention to themselves!  If anyone’s bein a danger, it’s you!”

 

Becky was angry now.  This woman had the audacity to mock her in her own language, and that never sat well with her.  “Yer accent’s right shite too.”

 

Sasha just laughed dismissively again. 

 

Becky sighed and took a look around the parking garage, wondering once again why she was here.  A sense of understanding finally settled on her. This woman was never going to change and would just continue to waste Becky’s time.  Becky lowered her rifle and stood straight, her shoulders slumped as she turned and headed back towards the ramp. “I’m not even sure why I showed up ‘ere, but I don’t need this shit.  ‘Ave a good life, ya asshole.”

 

Sasha wasn’t caught unprepared by this move. She’d come expecting some kind of rebellious tantrum just such as this. Rather than respond, she hit a control on her SHD watch. A moment later the sound of someone struggling to escape from an enclosed space began to play through the radios Sasha had left around the ramp. As it played, these sounds were joined by muffled grunts and whimpers as though the person in the audio was gagged.

 

“Can you afford to?” Sasha asked primly.

 

Becky paused for a second, her options waffling back and forth in her mind.  She squared her shoulders and started walking again. “If ya wanted that ta actually work, ya would ‘ave baited yer traps a little better.  Been there, done that. I’m still leavin.”

 

Sasha tittered condescendingly at this. She was beginning to grasp the measure of Straight Fire now. “Perhaps you’re right, perhaps this is all a deception. Of course, if it’s not…” as she paused, Sasha increased the volume on the audio she was playing “...You condemn this young person to a long and slow death by starvation or asphyxiation.”

 

Sasha paused before speaking in a much cooler voice. “Are you sure you can walk away?”

 

“I’m sure if I stay, you’ll keep usin me fer yer little games.  And I ‘ave other things ta do, more people ta help,” Becky shrugged as she continued to walk down to the first level.

 

“And who is to say you aren’t currently playing your part to perfection?”

 

This makes Becky pause.  “What do ya mean? Ya wanted me ta walk out?”

 

Sasha smiled to herself. “No, of course not. How could that possibly benefit me? I need you here for my little game, don’t I?” she asked. When employing this kind of manipulation it was very important that you allow the subject the illusion of their own choice. 

 

“Good ta know,” Becky called out as she started walking again.  She had made it to the first level and was starting towards the entrance.  “And do yerself a favor, stop tryin ta lure me in ta yer little games. I ain’t showin up no more.”

 

“Why don’t you ask Straight Fire where she is going?” Sasha transmitted before she hit another control. The first played louder and more urgent sounding struggle audio. She followed this up by taking a deep breath and screaming at the top of her lungs. It was the scream of a consummate actress, redolent with pain and fear. The performance continued as Sasha kept up a stream of audio that certainly suggested that she was torturing a young woman. Then she schooled her voice once more.

 

“Why are you doing this?! Help!” she screamed in a very different voice than her own.

 

Becky froze and took a deep breath.  She tried to ignore the sound of the young woman, but she couldn’t.  She had made a promise a long time ago that she would help anyone who needed it.  And even if this was a trick, she’d rather know for sure than live with the constant fear that she had failed someone.  Becky turned back to the ramp and looked up into the garage. “Okay, just stop whatever yer doin ta her. I’m listenin. What do you want from me now?”

 

“Nothing,” Sasha said flatly before she screamed again. There was a minor risk to be assumed by screaming like she was, it could attract predators to the ramp. But if that happened, Sasha would simply leave and allow Straight Fire to deal with the situation.

 

“Aye!  Knock it off then!  I don’t know what yer after right now, but whoever that is doesn’t deserve whatever the fook yer doin to ‘em!  Look,” she yelled desperately as she jogged back up the ramp to the second floor. “I’m stayin! See?” 

 

Sasha, who had relocated after her last scream tossed the two smoke grenades she had been holding down the ramp. As the billowing clouds began to fill the space, Sasha put a rebreather over her mouth and nose while lowering her low vision goggles over her eyes. When she changed the filter to infra-red, Straight Fire’s silhouette jumped out at her. Sasha crept forward through the thick smoke until she was standing only a few feet behind her target.

 

“So, predictable...and so very arrogant,” she said as she threw her voice. It sounded as though she were speaking directly to Straight Fire’s left. 

 

Becky threw her fist out to her left, hoping to connect with this bitch’s face.  She stumbled slightly from the momentum when she didn’t make contact with anything.  “I’m the arrogant one!? Predictable maybe, but take a look around ya. I’m not the one who set up a feckin funhouse of horrors just ta taunt someone.”

 

Sasha lunged forward and kicked the other woman hard behind the knee, dropping her down to one leg. Sasha then spun rapidly and sent the heel of her boot crashing into Straight Fire’s shoulder. Had she aimed higher, she might have knocked out or concussed her target. But she wasn’t finished here.

 

“Arrogant enough that you don’t even see it. Can’t recognize that you are the most dangerous thing in the city to those you pretend to protect!” Sasha snapped before she faded back into the smoke.

 

Becky pushed herself back to her feet and grabbed her rifle, moving quickly to put her back against a car.  “I do protect ‘em! I keep ‘em safe, I provide ‘em shelter and food. I ain’t out ‘ere scarin people inta thinkin ghosts actually do exist!  I don’t murder people in cold blood! The people are safe when they see the knot.”

 

Sasha picked up one of the rapidly emptying smoke canisters from the ground and simply threw it at her target. As it clanked into Straight Fire’s face, Sasha spoke from outside the smoke. “ _Luigh ort féin más gá, ach ná tarraing daoine eile leat. Tá sábháilteacht do mharc ina luí._ ”

 

Becky swatted at her face as the canister burned where it had struck her, the metal edge of the can sticking slightly to her skin on impact.  “Fook,” she hissed as she tried to stay focused on her target. “The mark ain’t a lie! It means somethin, stands fer somethin… somethin bigger than us.  It holds a meanin you couldn’t even begin ta understand.”

 

“Two days ago, three people were butchered in their home. Two fathers and their son. THEY put your mark on their door all the way out there in Oak Lawn. Did it avail them?” Sasha asked through the radio.

 

“Last week, a small group of refugees thought the mark would protect them as they attempted to settle in a post office. None are alive now, where was your mark then?” she continued relentlessly.

 

“FOOKIN CHASIN YOU!” Becky roared into the smoke.  “Have ya stopped ta think fer one second that yer game is stoppin me from protectin these people yer so torn up over!!”  Becky’s grip tightened on her rifle, praying that this woman would come face her so she could end this right now.  

 

Sasha just laughed with scorn at this. “This has been happening for weeks, you posturing child! Long before you became of interest to me. You don’t provide hope or security, you provide a comforting lie.”

 

Becky is quiet for a second.  “Isn’t my lie better than yer fear though?  In the long run? Ain’t that better than what yer providin ‘em which is a crock of nothin?”  

 

“A simplistic argument from a simplistic mind…” Sasha chuckled “...Your lie kills indiscriminately due to your arrogance. I, at least, deal in precision.” 

 

“Yer so fookin full of it, ya know that?  Keep tellin yerself that by killin Division Agents, yer makin a difference.  So high and fuckin mighty up out of harms way. With you gone, no one will notice.  Straight Fire goes missin an people go hungry. There’s a difference there. And I’m makin it.  So how about we end this right now? Come on out and fight me face ta face ya coward!”

 

Becky used her yelling to hide the fact that she had moved between several cars and was approaching the third level ramp.  She needed to keep moving so that way the Ghost would have less of a chance in finding her.

 

Sasha had relocated to the 4th floor and listened in bemusement to Straight Fire’s tirade. As she moved she took a key fob from her pocket and hit a button that would open the trunk of one of the cars on the 3rd level. Inside would be something to shut the other woman up.

 

“Behold your victims…” she called, not bothering to throw her voice knowing it would echo.

 

Becky pivoted, her rifle up and pointing at a car as the trunk opened up.  She approached it cautiously and peered inside. There were files scattered all over the inside, pictures of people smiling up at her.  There appeared to be close to a hundred. Becky reached out with a shaky hand and moved some of them around, hoping to see any of the countless Demons or SHIELD members she had put down.  But all of the people staring silently back at her appeared to be civilians. Innocent people who, according to the Ghost, were no longer alive.

 

“Yer lyin.  I haven’t killed these people,” she argued as she shook her head.

 

“Feel free to verify, the addresses are all there. Just remember, they all thought your mark would keep them safe. And who was it that created the precedent? Who set the impossible idea that a mere mark on a door might provide safety? Who’s inflated ego gave birth to the myth of Straight Fire?”

 

Becky growled as she kept her head down.  “It’s not about ego! I’m actually providin the ones I can reach a safe place ta be.  If they stayed in the area close ta my base, I’d be able ta help them. Once they move out beyond that, I can’t do much.  They should ‘ave known that.”  
  
She moved to another car and waited behind cover to see if she could figure out where the Ghost was hiding.  “But that’s not tha problem right now. How ‘bout instead of leadin me on all these fuckin wild goose chases, ya just let me do my thing.  I can’t see why ya suddenly care bout what I’m doin’.”

 

“I see…” Sasha said mocked “...So it was their fault that you created a myth that you couldn’t possibly support.”

 

“I can support it!  Here! Where it was meant ta stay!”  Becky bit back as she looked for a new place of cover to move to.

 

“How dare they have the audacity to hope in a way you do not approve of, I wonder if you enjoy the dependence you foster…” Sasha hissed into her radio.   

 

Becky moved to the cover she had spotted, making sure to keep her head down.  “Ya think I actually enjoy havin these people dependin on me? That I enjoy runnin myself ragged ta help them?  I could be doin a lot more if I didn’t have ta be here protectin them, but it’s the card I’ve been dealt, so I’m dealin with it.”

 

“As I said before, lie to yourself if you must...but don’t expect the rest of the world to collaborate,” Sasha answered as she reached her destination. She estimated she was almost directly above the other woman on the floor below her.

 

“The rest of the world ain’t goin ta collaborate on a lot of what I’ve been doin here ta keep the innocent safe.  So I’ll just add it to tha list,” Becky shifted her location again so she was taking cover behind a box truck.

 

After a quick calculation about sound dispersion, Sasha simply raised her sidearm and fired it into the ceiling. She then scrambled to a new position of concealment to see what effect the noise might have.

 

Becky winced and closed her eyes briefly.  She counted a slow count of three and waited for something else to happen.  When nothing else followed the gunshot, Becky exhaled slowly and then leaned out around the truck.  “What are ya shootin at? You’ve spent so long toyin with me and yet ya haven’t killed me. So I’m willin ta wager it wasn’t me you were aimin at.”

 

Sasha’s response was to fire her pistol once more. This time though, she used the cover of the sound to move. Throwing her voice when she got to her next position she spoke again. “Your eyes and your voice are betraying your words. You accuse me of myriad offenses, yet it is your ego that is endangering the people you claim to protect.”

 

Becky moved after the second gunshot.  She adjusted her grip on her rifle and took a steadying breath.  “Again with the ego? Yer startin ta sound like a broken record, goin on and on about what I’m feelin or what I’m doin.  Makes me wonder if yer wastin yer time by followin me. So I’ll ask again, why do ya care so much about what I’ve been doin?”

 

Sasha sighed, the sigh of a hunter who is finding her chosen prey sadly disappointing. But as she did so, she leveled her rifle.

 

“You are a rogue element. A potential disruption to my work, the sort that actually accomplishes things, not something you’d be familiar with. Though I must concede you’ve been a useful one as well...at times.”

 

Becky scoffed. “If I’m such a rogue element that could be disruptin whatever ya consider ta be yer very important work, it makes me wonder why ya keep botherin me.  Ya could just go back ta ignorin me so we both could be gettin work done, but ya ain’t. So it makes me wonder…does someone have a bit of a crush that I should know about?”

 

“Indeed, why would I invest this time...when at any point I could…” Sasha squeezed the trigger on her rifle. The SRS gave it’s comforting ‘chunk’ sound followed by a light kick. 

 

Becky felt the sting of something slamming into her shoulder.  “Fuck!” she yelped as the force of the object sent her stumbling into the car she had been taking cover behind.  Her hand shot back to make sure it hadn’t been a bullet that hit her, and when her hand came back blood-free, she breathed a sigh of relief.   She did a quick scan of the area and moved to another car, before waiting a few seconds. Then she made another move to the ramp leading to the third level.

 

“So why don’t ya!?  I’m honestly gettin kinda tired of this!  So just do it already ya coward!!”

 

Sasha had hurried across the level while Straight Fire had been speaking. Now she made sure the sprint across the mouth of the ramp, allowing her usually soft footfalls to become louder as she did. She even kicked some debris for good measure. When she’d taken cover once more, she lifted her radio to her mouth. “It’s important that you understand your place…”

 

“Understand my….” Becky grumbled to herself.  “I have my place! And the last time I checked, that place was nowhere near you!” She yelled out as she moved towards the ramp, her rifle up and scanning with her eyes as she moved to her next piece of cover.

 

“Your work represents a potential threat to mine. Your clumsy and blundering way of proceeding tends to spook my prey. All so you can get more people murdered by peddling your placebo of false hope. So understand this. You continue to exist because I allow it. Your ‘work’ is at my pleasure. So when I tell you to keep your clumsy hands off of the downtown Demon gangs, I would advise you to do so.”

 

“Again, it ain’t false hope!  I’ve given ‘em somethin ta believe in!  But if what I’m tryin ta do is so problematic fer you, then just kill me already!  Because I ain’t goin ta stop huntin the Demons who threaten the people in my area!”  Becky kept her eyes up and scanning as she settled with her back against the car she was hiding behind.

 

“Yesterday, a 15-year-old bought a 1911 off a trader. He painted YOUR symbol on his face and proceeded to attack a Demon gang in their hideout. I found his body after I cleared the place out. Found it in multiple places. Last week, a man shouted ‘Straight Fire’ as he attacked an Administration Patrol and hasn’t been seen since. Would they be alive if you hadn’t sold your beautiful lie? Stay out of the fray, girl. Let the adults work.”

 

As Sasha said this, she tossed a small piece of metal she’d found on one of the bodies over the edge of the interior ramp. She had estimated it would land near where Straight Fire was. It was just a bit of scrap that someone had scratched Brigid’s knot on.

 

“Did this save the nine-year-old girl? Did your ‘hope’ prevent her from being abducted?” Sasha asked harshly.

 

Becky bent down and picked up the piece of metal, her thumb rubbing gently over the knot and sighed.  She knew that this kind of thing was happening outside of her area, but it never felt good to have it shoved in her face.  She needed to remind herself that she was doing as much good as she could with the time and movement constraints on her. Someone had to stay at the bar in case people stopped by for supplies and shelter.  

 

Becky slid the piece of metal into her pocket and looked back up around the garage.  “Ya want me out of the fray? Then just leave me alone and I’ll stay out of whatever it is yer doin.  I’ll keep doin me and you can keep doin you.”

 

“Try to pay attention, you dimwit. You’re infantile fits of destruction disrupt my work. I will see to the demons at the courthouse and release any prisoners there. Stay in your corner in the meantime,” Sasha shot back as she reached the top floor of the parking structure. It was here that she would make her final point. 

 

“Fine!  Ya want the Demons at the courthouse?  Ya got ‘em. They ain’t my concern, so have at ‘em.  Now tell me where ya got that girl stashed so I can get outta here.”  Becky shifted locations again, moving quickly between cars until she found a barrier she could take cover behind.

 

Sasha didn’t respond beyond allowing her footfalls to be heard from the top floor. As she passed a car she banged on its trunk several times. Then it was time for her to settle in for the crescendo.

 

Becky’s eyes shot up to where the sound was coming from.  She weighed her options and decided the risk was worth it.  She moved quickly up to the top floor and scanned the area, looking for the Ghost.

 

Sasha pressed one last button. 

 

Smoke began to billow out of four cars in front of Straight Fire. Sasha watched carefully as the other woman turned to head back down the ramp. But then she noticed the two mines Sasha had just activated. She was trapped and, Sasha saw this in her body language, she knew it. This brought a smirk back to Sasha’s face as she donned her disguise.

 

Becky ducked behind the nearest car when she realized that she was trapped between the top floor and the lower level.  “What the fook is this!? Just give me the girl and I’ll be out of here, leave ya to whatever yer plan is fer the courthouse.”

 

“Poor straight fire, always a dozen steps behind,” Sasha said. As she spoke her voice came out in a slow bass drone she would be incapable of producing on her own. She was using a voice changer and microphone she built into her rebreather now. Lowering her goggles once more she flicked them to infra-red once more but this time didn’t smother their glow. To anyone looking at her, it would seem as though Sasha had three glowing red eyes. The final touch on her look was the hood she had raised over her hair.

 

It was time to make her point.

 

“Check the trunk of the car directly in front of you, you’ll find your reward there,” Sasha called in her distorted voice.

 

Becky sighed and rolled her eyes.  Of course, it wouldn’t be as easy as that.  It always seemed like it was always one more thing with this bitch.  But Becky still did what she said, and opened up the trunk of the car, her eyes still up and scanning the area.

 

Sasha’s SHD tech goggles were a marvel of technology. When wearing them she could toggle her scope so it’s feed was sent directly to the goggles. In effect, Sasha could see everything she would have had she been peering through it. It wasn’t good enough for precision work, but at this range, she couldn’t miss. Standing, she leveled her rifle and aimed it at the other woman’s back. No chalk rounds this time.

 

Becky finally took her eyes off the surrounding area and looked into the trunk, finding a single piece of paper.  “What the fuckin hell,” Becky muttered to herself when she read what it said: _And the fool finds her reward_.  The writing was impeccable and in perfect grammatical Irish Gaelic.  “Who the fook is this?” Becky hissed to herself as her eyes immediately snapped up and she looked over her shoulder.

 

Sasha’s only response was the strobe her laser once past Straight Fire’s head. The woman was fast, there was no doubt. She was spinning and raising her rifle more quickly than most people could have hoped to react. But Sasha wasn’t most people. Blowing out a breath, Sasha squeezed the trigger on her rifle.

 

As shots went, it would have been impossible for almost anyone else. Sasha had fired from the perfect angle so that her bullet blasted through the space between the other woman’s shoulder and forearm, passing over her elbow. Or, in other words, directly through the receiver of her rifle. Without having to think about it, Sasha’s hand moved in a blur to rack her rifle’s bolt and chamber another round.

 

Becky stumbled back as her rifle basically exploded in her hands, the receiver no longer in one piece or even remotely viable.  She dropped the weapon as she moved to duck behind the engine block of the car, her right hand reaching to the strap holster secured on her pack strap and pulled her S&W Shield, her eyes furiously scanning the area for a threat.  Her left hand drifted briefly to the node on her shoulder, trying to decide if she should activate it or not.  

 

The infrared capabilities in her HUD would be helpful in this situation, sure.  But there was a reason that Becky rarely used it and that was mainly because she didn’t really understand it.  In this case, going into the fight blind would be more beneficial than trying to figure out her SHD tech on the fly.  She took a steadying breath, readjusted to a two-hand grip on her pistol and waited.

 

Becky’s eyes narrowed a few seconds later when the smoke moved briefly from an area in front of her and a figure was standing there in front of her.  The person was smaller in stature and was holding a rifle that appeared to be way too big for them. Other than that, they had taken extreme precautions to cover their identity, even down to the weird glowing red eyes that were visible now that Becky knew where to look.  But all of that isn’t what drew her attention the most. No, that was reserved for what was on the Ghost’s shoulder.

 

An SHD node was deactivated, the dull orange color of it barely visible.

 

“Yer a fucking Agent!?” Becky bellowed at the woman.  “Are ya fookin kiddin me!? This whole time you’ve been chasin me, tauntin me, and we could ‘ave been workin together!?”

 

Sasha’s first response was another bullet. It was a much more difficult business to shoot a pistol in someone’s hand. But she appreciated the challenge. The impact of the bullet ripped the weapon from Straight Fire’s hand, sending it spiraling away. In the time it took for the other woman to flinch, look after the pistol, and then turn back Sasha had already chambered another bullet.

 

Becky worked her jaw back and for a few times, the fire burning in her veins begging her to be released on this fucking bitch, but she knew that particular fight would be over before it began.  She exhaled forcefully and shook her head, stepping out from behind the cover of the car. “Ya know what? Ya proved yer point, yer better than me. Happy?”  
  
She leaned down and picked up her now ruined rifle and pistol.  “Yer better than me, smarter than me, faster than me. Congratulations.  But now that you’ve made yer point, I’m leavin because I think ya just like playin with me.  So take yer shot, or don’t, I don’t really care either way.”  
  
She turned and walked towards the railing next to the ramp, checked to make sure there was a car for her to drop down onto and swung her leg up and over the railing.  

 

Sasha’s next shot, striking the concrete just below the other woman, was enough to drive her back to right where Sasha wanted her. “Remember what you learned here today and this: never discard a potentially useful tool if you don't have to. Think about that when you wake up.”

 

Becky was breathing heavy now, her jaw clenched and her fists tightening on her rifle.  “I don’t bloody understand ya, ya fuckin asshole! Speak fuckin English!”

 

Sasha fired again. The bullet struck the ducting directly over Straight Fire’s head, the section that Sasha had loosed beforehand. Sasha had been careful to pick a section that wouldn’t be heavy enough to do lasting damage but enough to cause unconsciousness. She wasn’t disappointed as the heavy piece of metal crashed down onto the other woman. Still, it didn’t pay to be careless. So Sasha approached very cautiously, her sidearm up. Only when she was certain the other woman was unconscious did she kneel beside her.  

 

The first thing she did was synch her ISAC to the other woman’s node. She downloaded Straight Fire’s personal information before covering her digital tracks. Then she rifled the woman’s pockets, she didn’t find anything of great value though she did decide to keep a small medallion she found there. She guessed it was a talisman of some sort.

 

Looking down at the unconscious woman, Sasha shook her head in disgust. “I don’t know what mistake gave you that node. But you and I are nothing alike.”

 

Then, she left.

 

\----------

 

Becky groaned.  “Bloody fuckin hell.  What in the name of Jesus, Mary and Joseph fuckin happened?” 

 

She hissed as she shifted and pushed the debris off of her.  There wasn’t too much of it, really just enough to cover parts of her upper chest and shoulders.  Once she was clear of that, she did a quick rundown of all of her limbs, wiggling her fingers and toes to make sure they were still functional.  When all her little piggies responded accordingly, she pushed herself into a sitting position, her hand reaching up to check her head.  

 

Her hair was matted with blood, but her hand didn’t have any blood on it, which meant that she had been there for a while.  She squinted up at the light and shook her head briefly to try and get her ears to focus in case the Ghost was still around.  It was a long shot, she knew but she’d rather be safe than sorry.  

 

She took a look around and froze when she saw that a radio had been left near her.  It wasn’t one of hers and hadn’t been there before, which could only mean one person had left it there.  She grumbled to herself in Gaelic as she shakily got to her feet. She retrieved the radio and then picked up her weapons again.

 

“Fookin hell,” she cursed when she saw just how damaged the rifle was.  It wasn’t irreparable, but it would take some work once she got back to the bar.  The same with her pistol. Neither would have to be discarded, but it would take her a good day to get the repairs done… a day that she didn’t have and couldn’t afford to waste.

 

Becky turned to leave the garage when she saw the car with its trunk still popped.  She walked back to the car and sighed before looking back inside. There had been a file underneath the note that she hadn’t had time to look at while she was engaged with the Ghost, but now that she was gone, Becky could see exactly what the other woman had left for her.

 

She sighed as she opened the file, her head throbbing and her eyes having difficulty focusing.  Inside was a complete dossier on Becky, down to her name and a detailed workout of her routines and patrol patterns.  There was also a page long workup of her bar, and then two more pieces of paper that made Becky freeze.  

 

Pictures of Toni and ODB were staring back at her.  And each page on them had a complete workup of their routines and hideouts as well.  “Shit!” Becky cursed as she ran out of the parking garage. She needed to contact them right away and tell them to get to ground. 

 

The Ghost may have been toying with Becky.  But she just fucking crossed a line.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, two Horsewomen have finally met! Was it everything you hoped for? I hope so because there is plenty more to come!
> 
> LL and I are continually blown away by the love you are showing this story! Keep it up, friends, it does make a difference! 
> 
> What did everyone think of this chapter? Let us know in the comments, don't be shy!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	31. Seriously, whose dog is this?  -  Becky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Becky has a little trouble with some strays. Now it's time to decide if she should kick them to the curb or adopt them. What is a hotheaded vigilante supposed to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know that every week AP and I get on here and thank you all from the bottom of our hearts for reading this story. We tell you how amazing you are and how grateful we are that you are sticking with us. Well, its time for me to be honest. When I say shit like that... I actually mean it! You guys seriously kick ass. We are constantly blown away by the love and support this story has gotten. And the only reason that it is what it is, is because of your unending support. Love you guys! You are the best community a girl could hope for! 
> 
>  
> 
> _____________

A loud crash echoed throughout the otherwise quiet bar.  Becky rolled out of bed, the minor injuries she got from going after the Demons at the Courthouse screaming in protest.  It had been a long few days after her initial interaction with the Ghost, and she was sorer than she had been in a while.  It had been kind of stupid to go after the Demons at the Courthouse, especially after she had gotten another concussion when the ceiling collapsed on her in the parking garage.  But she wasn’t able to just let everything the Ghost had said go. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her, especially when she had mentioned going to the Courthouse. So as soon as she gave ODB and Toni the heads up that they were on the Ghost’s radar, she had set off for that exact location.

 

She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but just another Demon nest hadn’t been it.  The Ghost had seemed intrigued by that location, so Becky had assumed it was something more important, something more unique.  It was only a rather large Demon den, one she had cleared out relatively easily, but it was still really disappointing.  

 

Becky grabbed her Lupo that had been resting against her nightstand and started making her way down into the bar.  All of the defenses were engaged, and there shouldn’t be a way for anyone to get past them. Which meant that either Becky had lost her mind, or the Ghost had found a way past her defense systems.  Granted, most of her traps and turrets would recognize the ISAC node of a Division Agent, but the Ghost hadn’t seemed like someone who would keep the node on. She seemed to be similar to Becky in that regard.  They wanted to… no needed to remain anonymous to continue to do what they did. To turn on the node and send a signal of their location to Anderson would blow up everything they had been working towards.  

 

It still bothered Becky that the Ghost was an Agent.  She was used to the different factions coming after, hunting her, taunting her.  But to have another Agent doing it… that was a completely different story. One that didn’t sit well with Becky.  They could be working with each other, helping each other. And instead, this bitch had decided to come after Becky and force her to divert her attention from helping people to dealing with her and her fucked up games.  

 

Becky eased herself down the last few steps, her eyes scanning the bar cautiously.  It appeared empty, which made Becky feel more uneasy than hearing the noise at all. Her Lupo moved as her eyes did, hoping to catch anything moving within the room.  Even a shadow would give Becky something to aim at, something to shoot at. But if this was the Ghost, Becky would never see the shot coming.  

 

Though she wasn’t sure the Ghost  **_would_ ** take the shot.  She’d had plenty of time to do so in all of their meetings and yet she hadn’t.  Which made Becky wonder, however briefly, what the Ghost had planned for her. What was the overall plan for dragging Becky along and making her take out Demon nests all over downtown?  

 

Finding nothing in the main bar, Becky moved to the kitchen area, her eyes narrowing as she eased the door open.  The interior of the kitchen was just as still and quiet as the front of the bar. Feeling her paranoia starting to get the better of her, Becky checked all of the corners of the room and then even went on to opening up refrigerators and freezers.  She was about to leave until her eyes fell on the pantry. Deciding that it was better to feel ridiculous than to wonder, Becky even opened that.  

 

Once she was convinced that the kitchen was clear, she moved to the basement.  The lab was also empty, and the door leading from her lab to the old prohibition tunnels that ran under her bar and the city was still heavily bolted from the inside.  The turrets she had connected to the door appeared to be active and dormant for the time being, which means no one without a node had come this way.  

 

Becky sighed and finally relaxed.  She was either hearing things, or her paranoia about the Ghost had settled so far into her subconscious that she had dreamed the noise.  She lowered her Lupo and headed back up to her bedroom. She had only laid down to sleep a little over an hour ago and she was exhausted.  

 

She walked back into her bedroom and stopped in her tracks.  “Are ya bloody serious!? How tha hell do ya keep gettin in ‘ere!?”

 

The large black dog looked at her lazily from her bed before he yawned and laid back down.  He made himself comfortable and huffed out a breath before settling into sleep.

 

“Oh no you don’t, ya big oaf,” Becky grumbled as she stalked towards her bed and the large dog.  “Ya don’t live ‘ere, and I don’t want ya ‘ere. So go on and git out!”

 

The dog barked happily as Becky reached out and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him out of the bed.  He didn’t even seem put off that she was moving him so roughly from where he had just made himself comfortable.  

 

She hauled him out of the bedroom and pushed him towards the stairs.  “I’m too tired ta move ya all tha way outside, so go sleep in tha bar, ya fuckin mutt.”

 

The dog barked happily again even as the door was slammed in his face.  A few seconds past and then Becky heard what sounded like a large body slumping down onto the floor.  The dog breathed out a sigh and then settled. Becky rolled her eyes and climbed back into bed. “Unfuckin-believable… even in the apocalypse, I got me a stray tat won’t leave me be,” Becky complained as she climbed under the covers.

 

Right on cue, there was another happy-sounding bark from outside the door.

 

_______________

 

Becky kicked at the dog that had been following her for most of the day.  Tearmann had been running low on supplies, so she had set out pretty early in the morning to hit as many stores as she could to scavenge supplies.  She was venturing a little further South than she usually patrolled, but a recent influx of Demons in the area meant a greater risk and less reward so she had pushed herself a little beyond her comfort zone and moved south.  

 

The dog gently nipped at her ankle even as her foot moved toward his face.  He didn’t seem perturbed by Becky’s constant attempts to get him to move on.  Becky sighed. “What are ya even doin? Don’t ya have a master?”

 

The dog just moved his attention to the street, even as his tongue lolled out of his mouth.  “Who do ya think you are? Fancy yerself a right old Cú Chulainn? Fer fuck sake! Just go away!” she hissed at him and pushed at his haunches.  

 

The dog just huffed and kept standing there.  Becky rolled her eyes and sighed. “Yer a pain in my ass.”

 

He turned, licked her face and then trotted off towards the store they had been standing halfway down the block from.  Becky wiped at her face furiously, “gross ya freakin mutt!”

 

Once the slobber had been wiped off, Becky gathered her rifle and set off for the building as well.  She watched as the dog waltzed through the front of the building without a care in the world. Becky let him go, taking cover behind a burned-out car that was abandoned outside.  She waited for a few seconds to see if there was any noise coming from inside. When it remained quiet, Becky approached and eased herself in through the same door.

 

Her eyes scanned the front portion of the store.  It was ransacked and looked like it had been picked over a while ago.  Becky cursed, she had hoped that this general store would have been left relatively untouched, especially since it didn’t focus solely on food or clothing.  She started moving down the aisles, her ears easily picking up on the dog as it moved a few aisles over.  

 

Becky found some canned food that hadn’t been taken yet on some of the shelves.  She squatted and pulled a large duffle bag out of her pack. It wasn’t until she was done loading it up that she realized that the dog was no longer making noise.  She froze and started scanning the area around her, looking for something that could have either scared him off or taken him out.

 

“Such a good boy!”

 

Becky rolled her eyes, an exasperated sigh coming out of her as she stood up.  “Are ya kiddin me?”

 

There was a giggle.  “When did you get a dog?”

 

Becky grabbed her duffle bag and walked towards the young woman.  “What are ya doin ‘ere, Kayla?”

 

She shrugged even as she continued to pet the dog.  “Dad went out to scavenge earlier and I got bored. So I went out on my own, and saw you duck in here.”

 

She leveled a look at Becky.  “You’re not very good at this whole sneaking thing.  You know that, right?”

 

Becky gave her the same look.  “And yer not great at followin directions.  Ya know that, right?”

 

Kayla shrugged noncommittally.  “What did you want us to do, starve?”

 

Becky shook her head as she takes a deep breath.  “I gave you and yer da the address of my bar. And the address of tha church.  Both places offer help.”   
  
Kayla scoffed as she rolls her eyes.  “You honestly want us to rely on you and the Father for the rest of this apocalypse?  That makes no sense.”

 

“Why not?” Becky asked as she crossed her arms.

 

“It’s not sufficient for us.  It takes us twice as long to make it to those places.  And it puts too much pressure on you and the church. I mean look at you, Fire.  You’re out here scavenging pretty far away from your bar to get supplies.”

 

Kayla pushed herself up so she’s sitting on a counter.  “And you want me to believe that you can handle it if everyone in the city came to you for help every day?  It’s not logical.”

 

Becky stopped to consider that and eventually nodded.  “Maybe not everyone. But you and yer Da? Yeah, I can handle that.  I can handle you two.”

 

Kayla narrowed her eyes at Becky.  “Why us though? Why are you so hell-bent on protecting us?”

 

Becky sighed.  “Yer a kid! Ya shouldn’t have ta be concerned about how yer goin ta survive!  That’s fer us adults ta worry about, not you.”

 

Kayla fell quiet and watched as Becky went back to pulling supplies off of the shelves.  She watched the redhead work as she sorted through which supplies she wanted to take and which she could afford to leave behind.  She sighed as she swung her feet back and forth.

 

Becky doesn’t look up from where she’s studying a sewing kit.  “Got something on yer mind, lass?”

 

“What do you know about Velveteen Bliss?”

 

Becky didn’t move for a long few seconds.  She sighed as she tossed the sewing kit into her duffle.  “Why do ya want ta know about tat place?”

 

“They’re offering jobs to people who can wait tables.  And I’ve heard they pay extra for young women.”

 

Becky was immediately on her feet, her head shaking back and forth.  “Nope. No way. Ya don’t go there, ya hear me? It ain’t worth it.”

 

“Why not?  Dad and I wouldn’t have to worry about scavenging any more if I can get a job,” Kayla pouted.  

 

Becky looked back to the supplies on the shelves, her hands grabbing bottles of soap that had been left behind.  “Listen ta me, Kay. I can help ya. Ya don’t need ta go there, ya don’t need ta get a job with them, ya hear me?”

 

Before Kayla could respond, there was the sound of rapid gunfire outside.  Becky immediately dropped the soap she was holding and shifted her rifle off of her back.  “Stay here,” she commanded as she moved towards the door.    
  
Kayla nodded even as the dog sat down in front of the girl.  Becky took a second to wonder about that before she turned and looked out a window.  She cursed as she watched Ethan of all people running down the middle of the street, his head looking behind himself quickly as bullets seemed to whizz past him.

 

Becky didn’t hesitate as she stepped outside the building and whistled loudly.  Ethan looked at her and she could see the relief on his face as he turned and headed towards her.  Becky had already taken cover behind a vehicle, her rifle up and aiming at the SHIELD members who were chasing after him.  

 

Becky fired off a few rounds and then pulled out one of her canisters.  She tossed it downrange and smiled as it exploded next to two of the soldiers.  She pivoted in a crouch and moved her position to another piece of cover a little further up the street.  She pressed the trigger again, sending some rounds down the street and striking another soldier.  

 

Ethan practically dove through the door to the store as bullets continued to strike the ground around him.  Becky took that as her cue to go right at the three SHIELD members who were still making their way down the street.  Fighting them was different than fighting Demons or other scavengers. These people had combat training and thus made them more dangerous.

 

Which meant absolutely nothing to Becky in the long run.  She grinned as she loaded a canister into her launcher and let it fly, striking the ground in front of one of them.  It exploded on contact and splashed the soldier in what looked like liquid fire. The man fell to the ground, his screams echoing around the area.  

 

Becky moved her position to the doorway of the building next to the store she had come from.  She pressed the trigger as she moved, forcing the other two to take cover, one on each side of the street.  She used them taking cover to move her position one last time.  

 

She leaned out around the car she was behind and lined up the shot.  When the soldier on her side of the street leaned out from behind the barricade he was behind, Becky pressed the trigger and hit him square between the eyes.  She then stayed in a crouch and slipped around the trunk and moved quickly across the street. Moving quietly, she approached the final soldier from behind and quickly put three bullets into his back.  

 

Becky waited a few seconds to see if any other soldiers were heading her way.  When it didn’t seem as though anyone was still on the street, she stood and made her way back to the store.  She pushed her way through the door and stopped short when she saw Ethan giving his daughter an earful for being out on the street by herself. 

 

“I could say tha same thing about you too.”

 

Ethan stilled and turned to look at Becky.  He at least had the decency to look sheepish.  “Thank you for saving me again, ma’am.”

 

“Oh no,” Becky shook her head as she walked further into the store with her hands on her hips.  “Don’t even start with me about that. I was at yer place no more than two weeks ago givin you answers ta this whole scavenging business.  And yet ya both just ignored it. What good is me bein out ‘ere gettin supplies if neither of ya wants tha help I can provide?”

 

Ethan and Kayla both hung their heads as Becky began pacing the store.  After a few seconds of the father-daughter duo and the dog watching Becky move restlessly, the redhead stopped and looked up at the ceiling with her hands on her hips.  “Fine,” she sighed. “Guess I’m goin ta have ta teach ya how ta do this since neither of you will listen.”

 

Ethan’s brow furrowed as he looked up at her, even as Kayla grinned next to him.  “Seriously!? That’s awesome! I can’t believe Straight Fire is going to train us, Dad!”

 

Becky held up a finger.  “ ‘ang on. I ain’t trainin ya to do what I do.  But I can train ya ta be better scavengers. Maybe get shot at a little less.  No murderin’, no fightin unless ya have ta. And definitely no explosives. Deal?”

 

Ethan studied her for a second, his eyes narrowing even as he slowly started to nod.  “Scavenging only. I don’t want her learning how to shoot. Absolutely no explosives.”   
  


“Aw come on, Dad!  That’s no fun!”

 

Becky turned to look at her, her eyebrows raised in question.   Kayla saw the looks that both her father and Becky were giving her and she turned her eyes to the ground.  “Okay, fine. We do it the boring way.”   
  
“Tat’s what I thought,” Becky nods once, decisively.  “Now, help me grab tha rest of these supplies and then ya can help me carry ‘em back ta tha bar.”

 

Ethan nods and begins to help her gather stuff off the shelves as Kayla starts packing it into the duffle bags that Becky had brought.  It takes them about ten minutes before they’re all satisfied with the supplies they had gathered. Becky nods at them as they each take a duffle bag and sling it onto their backs.   
  
“Lesson one: medication is as important as everythin else.  Yer always goin ta need it, and if worse comes ta worse, ya can use it ta trade.  Lesson two: Civilians should only be tradin with tha JTF or tha church I told ya about.  No one else should be trusted.”   
  
Ethan studied her for a second.  “Not even you?”   
  
Becky shook her head.  “Don’t rely on me. What I do… I may not always be there.  Tha church and tha JTF have a better chance of survivin than I do.  Go ta them.”   
  
Ethan fell quiet but nodded regardless.  He fell in step on Becky’s left while Kayla filled in on her right.

 

Becky squinted into the sunlight as they exited the store, her eyes scanning the upper floors of the building across the street.  “Rule three. Just cause ya can’t see it, don’t mean it ain’t there.”

 

They started moving down the street when Becky realized that something was missing.  She tossed a look back at the store and whistled. “Aye, Cú Chulainn, come on.”

 

The dog tore out of the building and caught up to them in a few seconds.  Becky sighed and pointed at Kayla. “Cover,” she commanded and smiled a little when the dog fell in step next to Kayla.  “If yer goin ta be an interloper, ya may as well be doin some fuckin work.”

 

“Language young lady,” Ethan said as his eyes scanned the street around them.

 

Becky looked at him like he had lost his mind, but when it was obvious that he was serious, Becky just nodded.  “Sure… yeah. Okay, no foul language around tha kid.”

 

“Thank you,” Ethan smiled like he had just won a secret battle that Becky wasn’t aware they were even having.  

 

It took them about an hour to make it back to Tearmann, and another three to make it inside mainly because Becky had her defenses scan the three newcomers and add them to the database of acceptable residents of the bar.  “Tat way ya won’t get attacked if ya stop by when I ain’t ‘ere.”

 

She led them into the bar and had them sit down at one of the tables as Cú settled himself by the stairs leading to Becky’s bedroom.  Becky paused at the top of the stairs to the basement. “Rule four, ya don’t go downstairs. There ain’t nothin down there that ya’d need.”   
  
She waited for them to agree, and when it was just Ethan that nodded, Becky, pointed at Kayla.  “Ya hear me? I ain’t programmin these defenses ta recognize ya so they will attack.”   
  
Kayla looked a little scared at that before she nodded.  “Yes ma’am,” she finally grumbled.

 

Becky nodded and then disappeared into the basement.  She came back a few minutes later with a .22 revolver in one hand and a box of ammo in another.  “Well come on then,” she jerked her head towards the stairs.

 

Ethan and Kayla followed her and started climbing up to the roof.  On one side, there were a few chairs set up in what looked like a smoker’s area.  On the other side was a bunch of old bottles lined up on a table. This is what Becky finally came to stand in front of, a few yards away.     
  
Ethan looked at it skeptically, then back at Becky.  “What are we doing up here?”

 

Becky handed him the .22.  “Gotta know what I’m workin with.  So let’s go Pops, time ta show me what ya got,” she winked at him as she stepped behind him.  Kayla grinned as she pulled one of the chairs over to get a better look at what was going on.  

 

Ethan watched Becky, waiting for the punch line.  But when she simply raised an eyebrow, he tightened his grip on the revolver and raised it at the first bottle.  He pulled the trigger and Becky winced. “All right, looks like we got some work ta do…”

  
  


____________________

  
  


Becky was sitting at the bar, her M&P 10 disassembled in front of her.  She had been using one of her backup rifles in the last few days, but now that she had some time she wanted to fix the receiver that had been busted in her meeting with the Ghost.  She sighed and slid the last piece in place before she started reassembling the firearm.  

 

The radio next to her squawked next to her.  “ _ Fire, you up?” _

 

Becky grabbed the radio and hit the transmit button.  “Aye. What ya got, ODB?”   
  
“ _ One of the buildings the Ghost marked just got hit by SHIELD _ .”

 

Becky cursed and was on her feet in an instant, her M&P got a final check before she slammed a full clip into the magazine well.  “Which one? How far?”   
  
“ _ Easy, kiddo.  There aren’t any casualties.  Storm got to ‘em in time, barely… but she made it and she’s taking them to Father.  I’ve got cover on the nearby buildings until you get here.” _

 

Becky slipped on her pack and grabbed her Lupo as her back up piece.  “I copy, I’m on the way. Hold your position and keep me updated if anything changes.”   
  
_ “You got it.  We’ll discuss payment later, _ ” ODB reminded her before she signed off.

 

Becky shook her head as she ran out the door, barely remembering to arm the defenses as she left.  The Ghost had taken her toll on Becky both physically and emotionally. She came after her friends and threatened their safety.  All of that was just shy of acceptable because Becky and her allies were in this life and knew the consequences.

 

The people they worked to protect, the ones that needed their help, the ones who sought the knot for sanctuary…they didn’t choose this life and therefore were hands-off in Becky’s mind.  Leaving the mark on a building and then walking away was unacceptable and Becky swore right then and there that the Ghost would pay.

 

If Becky ever faced off with the Ghost again, only one of them would be walking away… Division Agent or not.


	32. The Cavalry - Bayley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Bayley Martinez gets some desperately needed assistance from an unexpected corner.

Bayley couldn’t remember being this excited, ever. It was more than excitement however, it was palpable relief. 

 

Bayley was hurrying down to the school’s gates after receiving an urgent message from the guards there. She’d been working with Nattie and Bobby to update their war room map when the message had arrived. If it was accurate, it could mean a world of difference for her personally and, much more importantly, for the school as a whole.

 

Another Division agent had arrived. 

 

Clambering up the steps that led to the wall’s fire step, Bayley walked to the parapet and looked down. Standing in the street below her stood a woman. She was clad in winter clothing, had long dirty blonde hair, and was wearing a pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses. Bayley noted these details automatically, but only in the back of her mind. Her attention was reserved for the tactical backpack, visible light armor vest under her coat, and the PP-19 cradled in one arm.

 

But the thing that was really making Bayley smile was the glowing orange ISAC node on the woman’s left shoulder. She was the real deal, the nodes wouldn’t activate for anyone but their assigned agent. 

 

Before Bayley could speak, the woman looking up at her called: “Are you, Martinez?”

 

“That’s me,” Bayley answered eagerly.

 

“Agent Tenille Dashwood, I got your note,” the woman called up to Bayley. Bayley was momentarily surprised that she spoke with an Australian accent.

 

“You are a sight for sore eyes, Agent, would you like to come in?” Bayley asked with a smile.

 

“If you’ve got someplace warm, I’d be very grateful,” Dashwood answered. 

 

“We’ve even got some coffee,” Bayley answered as she nodded to the guards. They looked uncertain for a few moments, but the gates eventually were opened and Dashwood walked through. Bayley met the shorter woman as she entered, and it was all she could do to keep herself from wrapping the other woman in a bearhug.

 

“Nice place…” Dashwood said as she shook Bayley’s hand.

 

“We try…” Bayley said before putting an apologetic look on her face “...I hate to start out like this, but the school won’t let anyone new take a weapon inside. There are kids around.” Bayley was tense as she said this. She was worried Dashwood might take offense at the implied mistrust and leave. Thankfully, the other agent just nodded.

 

“I understand,” she said as she handed her SMG to one of the door guards and then removed her sidearm. “Do you want my SHD tech too?” she asked Bayley.

 

“What are you carrying?”

 

“I’ve got a pulse and a firefly.”

 

“Leave the firefly if you don’t mind,” Bayley said, still apologetically. Dashwood just nodded and handed the gear over. Bayley gave her a reassuring smile and then led her inside the school. Their first stop was the war room, Bayley knew that Bobby and Nattie would want to meet Dashwood before anything else happened.

 

The ‘war room’ was what had once been a computer lab in the school. It now held some comm equipment, the monitors for the school’s security cameras, and a large map of Chicago spread out on a ping pong table. Various other maps were plastered on the wall, but it was the table map where Bayley found Bobby and Nattie.

 

“Bobby Roode, Natalya Neidhart, this is Agent Tenille Dashwood of the Division,” Bayley said by way of introduction. Roode nodded politely while Nattie smiled at Tenille. This sent a tiny pang of sad jealousy through Bayley. She couldn’t remember the last time Nattie had smiled at her. 

 

“Agent, welcome,” Bobby said. “You’re welcome to rest here for a while if you like. We try to take in anyone who needs it.”

 

“I appreciate that Mr. Roode, but I was actually hoping to offer a hand if you need one,” Dashwood answered him. This caused Bobby to exchange a quick glance with Nattie. Bayley knew what they were thinking. Bayley knew that they trusted her, they’d provided many proofs of that. But she also knew how deeply the mistrust of any kind of governmental figures, like a Division agent, ran in the school. They would be civil to Tenille because they trusted Bayley, but the other agent would have to earn her own trust.

 

“What sort of help are you offering?” Nattie asked.

 

Dashwood shrugged. “I imagine that there is something I could do for you. I’d be happy to work with Agent Martinez for a while if that’s easiest.”

 

“I COULD use the help,” Bayley put in mildly. The statement was mild only in tone, however. As much progress as the tactical team were making under Bayley’s tutelage, they were still very rough around the edges. Someone else with Division training, and presumably other relevant experience, would be a godsend to her. 

 

Bobby and Nattie exchanged another glance at this statement. It struck Bayley just how quickly Nattie had assimilated into the school community, even absorbing their attitude toward government authority. “If…” Bobby said “...Agent Martinez thinks she can use you then we’d be happy for your assistance.”

 

“I can,” Bayley said quickly. After a moment, both Bobby and Nattie gave nods of assent at this. Bayley let out an inward sigh of relief but kept it from her face as she moved over to the map. “With Agent Dashwood’s help, I believe we’ll be able to tackle one of the bigger jobs that we’ve been thinking about.”

 

“Bigger jobs?” Dashwood asked.

 

“So far, I’ve been focusing on the little things to keep the school going. Finding food and supplies, hitting any Demon group that sets up shop too close. That sort of thing. But, it’s all treading water stuff, it’s not moving the needle,” Bayley explained.

 

“And these bigger jobs will?”

 

“Hopefully…” Bayley said with a nod as she pointed to the map “...We currently have a few bigger long term goals for the school. The most important thing is to keep acquiring more seeds and other planting supplies for the spring.”

 

“For the big fields,” Dashwood said with a nod.

 

“Exactly…” Bayley acknowledged “...I’ve managed to find some but we need to get more. There is a Wal-Mart not far from here with a garden center. I’m hoping it’s stuffed full of seed packets. All I know now is that it’s full of Demons, well-equipped Demons. I might have been able to take them on my own but with your help and our team I think we can handle it.”

 

Dashwood studied the map for several seconds before she nodded. “What else?” was what she eventually asked.

 

“Even if we can get the seeds and put them in the ground, those fields will be very vulnerable. We’re hoping that we can eventually extend the wall you saw all the way around the fields and the school. That last part is critical. Right now someone could smash a truck through the eastern wall and they’d be right inside.”

 

Dashwood looked doubtful as she bit her lip. “From what I saw the wall is made mostly of debris, right?” she asked. Bayley nodded. In fact, the wall’s base was made of cars that had been parked bumper to bumper before other materials were used to build it up to its present height of around twelve feet. These materials ranged from sections of chain link fence to tires, to mattresses. 

 

“Yes, so in addition to expanding it we are looking to improve it,” Bayley agreed. She then turned slightly to address the whole room as she said: “I was thinking that we might search for semi-trailers and forklifts. If we can turn some of the trailers on their side we could build one hell of a wall. Especially if we can find some better materials to reinforce them with.”

 

Bobby frowned as she looked at the map. “Got any ideas on where to find them?” he asked.

 

“There is a Coca-Cola distributing center not far from here. If we can clear it out, we can take all the trucks there. I’ve paced off the area we want to wall in if we got all of them we’d be more than three-quarters of the way done.”

 

“Do you have the people with the skills to build the new walls effectively?” Dashwood asked.

 

“We...have been improvising. And I think that will be Agent Martinez’s next point. We try to take in anyone who needs help, but we REALLY need skilled people. If we could find some people who used to be contractors it could really help us,” Nattie put in. 

 

“Well it’s not like we can find a headhunting service,” Dashwood pointed out.

 

“It’s just about finding people and helping them. We need to be smart about it, we can only just feed ourselves as it is. But with the right additions we could increase our productivity and our ability to protect ourselves,” Bobby added.

 

“Which, is another thing…” Bayley cut in “...We’re doing OK right now, but we ALWAYS need more weapons, ammo, and especially armor. Unfortunately, there is really only one good source for those things right now.”

 

“Taking them off Demons…” Dashwood said with a nod and sigh.

 

“Exactly,” Bayley said with a grim look. The silence that followed this remark lingered for longer than was comfortable. For a few moments, Bayley had the horrible thought that they might have scared Dashwood off. That they might have dropped too much on her too fast. So it was with some trepidation that she heard the Australian woman clear her throat.

 

All of this apprehension vanished though when Dashwood asked: “When do we start?”

 

\----------

 

Two days later, Bayley was thanking the heavens that Tenille Dashwood had come into her life. 

 

It had turned out that Tenille had once been in the Australian Army, even making it as far as Special Forces. She’d immigrated to the United States several years before this simply for a change. Bayley admired the courage it would take to make that kind of a decision, she knew she couldn’t have done it. But that wasn’t the only thing Bayley ended up admiring in Tenille.

 

The woman didn’t show any signs of rust on her tactical abilities whatsoever. What was more, these skills actually complimented Bayley’s own perfectly. Bayley was a support gunner, her job was to pour fire where it was needed, keeping the enemy’s heads down and occupying their attention. This was why she wore such heavy armor, she didn’t get to employ nearly as much of the movement that was usually life to anyone in a firefight.

 

Tenille, on the other hand, was a human dynamo. She was a never-ending blur of movement, stopping only for the briefest time to fire a weapon or deploy her SHD tech, before flashing away again. So while Bayley could plod methodically forward, hammering the enemy head-on, Tenille would flit around the flanks, preventing Bayley from getting surrounded or exploiting any openings that her heavy fire opened up.

 

Bayley had almost forgotten what it was like to work with another highly trained operator. She hadn’t done so since her time in the air force. These reflections sometimes made her feel guilty because she was proud of how the buddies were coming along. But this guilt was washed quickly away when she saw how encouraged the buddies were just to have Tenille along with them. Most of the school might be distrustful of the Division, but they had learned from Bayley that the agents were great people to have on your side in a firefight

 

And so it had. Bayley had been feeling a tremendous amount of trepidation about someday having to attack the Coca-Cola facility. She had always felt that she would HAVE to do it eventually, she couldn’t think of another way to effectively and efficiently create the expanded wall that the school was hoping for. But before Tenille had arrived, she’d been reduced to desperately hoping that the buddies would improve dramatically with time. 

 

Now here she was, standing in the loading docks of that same facility, beaming as she watched a large group of people from the school hustling in and out. Tenille had been the one to suggest they attack this place first, Bayley had been thinking they might work up to it. But the Australian woman had been persistent and persuasive.

 

So, in the dead of night, Bayley, Tenille, and the buddies had crept up on the distribution facility. It was a nightmare to assault with such a small group as it was so large and had so many entrances and exits. But Bayley and Tenille had eventually agreed that it ultimately didn’t matter. All they had to do was scare the Demons enough with a show of force, to drive them away. Even if they returned eventually, Bayley and her team would be ensconced in defensive positions and waiting for them to return. 

 

The Demons had posted a few lookouts, but Bayley and Tenille had made quick work of them with suppressed rifle shots from across the street. With their lookouts gone, the rest of the Demons had only been aware they were under attack when Bayley and her force had started shouting. Splitting the buddies into two teams, Bayley and Tenille had scoured the building thoroughly. In the end, a handful of Demons escaped, but the school group had been left in possession of the building. 

 

But that had just been the beginning of the work. The most important task had been identifying if any of the trucks in the lot actually worked. It turned out that most of them did. They’d been given certain demon aesthetic touches, but they were functional. Bayley had made sure to bring along the few people from the school who could actually drive a semi. Leaving them to give a few other volunteers a quick crash course, Bayley and the rest had begun bringing anything worth taking back to the loading docks. 

 

The sun had only been up for about an hour before Bayley finally allowed herself to take a break. She was beaming because they’d hit the jackpot. They’d only found about fifteen demons in the place, but they seemed to have been the enterprising sort. Bayley guessed they’d been taking the functional trucks out on raids and bringing all the loot back to the facility. They’d found electronics, medicine, water, food, clothing, ammunition, weapons, everything needed. They’d also found a LOT of Coca-Cola. Not surprising, given where they were, but it was a small luxury that could really raise morale at the school. 

 

Best of all? They’d found this treasure trove in a place with many large trucks and trailers at hand to haul it back to the school. Some of the space in several of the trailers was reserved for three forklifts they found in the docks. None of them were working, but Bayley was confident that, given time, she could get them going. She was the daughter and sister of mechanics.

 

“Dakota?” Bayley called across the docks to where the medic was bent over one of their wounded. Through some miracle, they had, once again, beaten the odds. No one on their side had died. But they’d taken some casualties, and one man had a leg wound that Bayley was worried about.

 

“Yes, Agent?”

 

“Are we safe to move the wounded?” Bayley asked. Although they’d won a decisive victory, Bayley didn’t doubt that the Demons who had escaped would want to come back with reinforcements. Maybe she and her team could fight them off, but why take the risk? She wanted to be out of the area as soon as possible.

 

Dakota hesitated. Bayley thought she was doing a remarkable job as the School’s medic, especially considering how little actual training she’d had and how she’d been thrust into the role. But he knew the New Zealander suffered from a lack of confidence and a bad case of hero-worship when it came to Bayley herself. Bayley had been trying to build up the first but break the second, which was a very delicate balance to walk. 

 

“I...I think so?” Kai said, nervously. Bayley was trying to think of what to say when Tenille suddenly appeared, took Dakota’s arm, and gently led her off to one side. Bayley watched with interest as they had a quiet conversation, that seemed much more animated on Dashwood’s side. After about a minute, the two women separated with Tenille moving to join Bayley while Dakota hurried back to her patient.

 

“What was that?” Bayley asked quietly, careful to orient herself away from Dakota as she did so.

 

Tenille shrugged as she put her aviators on. “I just told her that she’s a medic now. She can’t ever seem that uncertain in front of someone she’s treating.” Bayley bit her lip, feeling foolish that she’d never pointed this out to Dakota before. Tenille was right though. Who wanted to be treated by someone who didn’t seem like they knew what they were doing?

 

“How do you think we did today?” Bayley asked her fellow agent. She looked sideways at Tenille as the other woman thought for a few moments.

 

“Better than I was expecting honestly, I thought we’d lose one or two,” Tenille admitted.

 

Bayley nodded grimly. “Every time I take them out I think that, but they keep surprising me and I guess that’s a good thing.”

 

“You shouldn’t count on that though,” Tenille cautioned.

 

“I won’t, I don’t. But maybe we can get them good enough before our luck runs out that we won’t need it,” Bayley said hopefully.

 

“Maybe,” Tenille said. There was some hesitation in her voice that Bayley didn’t want to examine at the moment. She was afraid the other woman was saying that she thought many of the buddies would die. Before either woman could follow this grim thread any further, their radio’s came to life.

 

“ _Agent Martinez?”_ came a voice that Bayley recognized as belonging to their school’s main comm operator, Paul London.

 

“Yeah, Paul?” Bayley asked.

 

“ _Bobby and Natalya want you to come back now, as fast as you can.”_

 

Bayley shot a worried look at Tenille. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

 

“ _There is another Division agent here, an Agent Orton. But...they just need you back here now. Both you and Agent Dashwood if possible.”_

 

Bayley’s heart was in her throat as she said: “We’ll be right there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you guys sick of hearing from LL and I how amazing you are? Well TOUGH! Because you're going to hear it again now! I had no idea what kind of a hit we might be sitting on when I pitched LL on the idea of a Division series. Yet here we are, over 2,700 hits and going strong. And, real talk you guys, we're planned for a LOT more content...so stick with us! (Perhaps even a bookmark?)
> 
> Before I go I also wanted to take a moment to point you wonderful people toward a new work here on A03. Whovians and WWE fans unite because the uber-talented and uber British ahunter8056 brings you: A Hero'll Save Me (Just in Time). It's still in the early phases but I can vouch for it being super compelling and feeling as though it's on to some amazing things in the future! Make sure and stop by to read it and I'm fairly certain you'll find it worthy of a kudo, a comment, or a bookmark!
> 
> Find the story here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20882408
> 
> Thanks for reading! Make sure to leave your thoughts below!


	33. Slow Ride, Take It Easy... Or Don't.... -- Charlotte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte is learning what the word relax means. In more ways than one. Until she gets a call from a certain Agent, that leaves Charlotte confused beyond belief. 
> 
> ______

Charlotte walked through the halls at headquarters, the evidence bag with the large .338 fragment that Naomi had brought back a while ago gripped in her hand.  With everything else that had been going on, she had forgotten that she had this piece of evidence to chase down. It was truly an out of sight, out of mind scenario, one that was most likely going to cost her a lot in the long run.  

 

Letting it sit in her desk for weeks was a vital error, one that cost at least three more agents their lives.  She had been racking her brain, trying to figure out a way to track down the Ghost when the key had been sitting in her desk all along.  And now because she had been such an idiot, the Ghost and Straight Fire were apparently at war with each other over God knows what. Each of them separately, in and of themselves, were worrisome.  But now that they were going head to head? That only spelled disaster for the people of Chicago, people that Charlotte was supposed to protect.

 

She sighed as she walked down to the armory.  She didn’t want to think that Io was in bed with the Ghost, but a quick inventory check left Charlotte with a bunch of questions.  Ones only the other woman could provide answers for. So here she was, paying a visit to the other woman.  She put on a friendly smile and walked through the door.  

 

“Commander,” Io looked up from where she had been cleaning a rifle.  She sounded surprised. “I wasn’t expecting you.”  

 

Charlotte nodded, “I know.  Sorry to drop by unannounced, but I have something that I could use your help with.”

 

Io nodded with a bright smile.  “Of course, what is it?”

  
“This.”

 

The thud of the bullet fragment hitting the desk echoed loudly in the otherwise silent room.  It was obvious that Shirai knew exactly what it was the moment Charlotte produced it, though she tried to hide it well.  

 

“That would be a bullet fragment, Commander,” she tried to explain after several tense minutes of silence.

 

“Yes, so it would seem.  I think it’s a .338, but it’s hard to say with how badly damaged it is.  Can you take a look at it?”

  
  
Io reached a shaky hand towards the evidence baggie and dumped the fragment out in her hand.  She studied it for a few seconds and then nodded. “I would say you are right. Good eye, Commander.”

 

Charlotte hummed as if she was proud of herself.  But she wasn’t finished yet, not by a long shot. “And you wouldn’t happen to know where that bullet came from, would you?”

  
Io shook her head almost immediately.  “No. I have no idea.”

  
“Not even a guess?”

 

“No, I don’t have one.”

 

Charlotte appeared to be thinking it over.  “Any idea who might be using .338’s? It’s a difficult round to handle, especially with the efficiency at the scene this was recovered from.”

 

There was an audible gulp and then another shake of her head as Io stammered.  “I… I couldn’t say. Hard to tell with how many … trained operatives we have here in the city.”

 

Charlotte picked up the fragment and put it back in the evidence bag, watching as Io clocked her every move.  She turned and headed towards the door. “Oh well, worth a shot I guess.”

Io visibly relaxed as Charlotte left the room, but stiffened when she poked her head back in.  “Oh, and one more thing. You wouldn’t happen to know what happened to this, would you?” She took a folded piece of paper out of her back pocket and walked back over to place it down in front of her armorer.  

 

Io took one look at the list of missing inventory and deflated.  Charlotte watched and waited for the other woman to speak. When she didn’t Charlotte cleared her throat.  “It is the Ghost, isn’t it?”

Io simply nodded.  

 

Charlotte tried not to get too mad.  “Who is it? Do you know? And how do you get in touch with them?”

  
  
The look of fear on Io’s face as she finally made eye contact with Charlotte again was enough to make the blonde nod.  “You have no idea, do you?”

“They make contact with me when they’re ready for the dead drop.  I provide ammo, weapons, and information in return for better gear.  It’s one of the ways I’ve been able to keep the armory stocked.”

 

Charlotte sighed and bit at the inside of her cheek.  “Did you even vet them?”

 

“How would I have done that?”

  
  
Charlotte glared at the woman and placed a radio on the table.  “Put that in your next drop for the Ghost. I need to talk to them.”

 

  
Io nodded even though Charlotte couldn’t see it because she was already walking out the door.

 

Charlotte grumbled to herself the whole way back to her office, her eyes staying resolutely on the floor as she all but stormed down the hallway.  It’s because she wasn’t paying attention that she almost ran right into Dr. Sane who was standing right outside her office door with her arms crossed over her chest.  

 

Charlotte managed to stop just in time, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the sight of the short doctor.  “Hello, Dr. Sane, how can I help you?”

 

Sane narrowed her eyes at Charlotte and handed her two pieces of paper.  There was a rapid explosion of very angry sounding Japanese. Charlotte stumbled back a little as Kairi stomped towards her, waving emphatically.

Charlotte glanced from the papers to Dr. Sane and back to the papers.  “Uh….”

“She’s upset because you haven’t been honoring our agreement, Commander.”

“Yes!  That’s what I’ve been saying!” Dr. Sane yells as she points at Dr. Scot who was walking down the hallway.

 

Charlotte looked even more confused than before.  “What are you talking about? I have been!”

Dr. Sane grabbed the papers back and pulled out the second one, thrusting it back at Charlotte.  “Sleep patterns. You slept for three hours last night, two the night before and four the night before that!  That is **_not_ ** what we agreed to.”

 

“I’ve been doing the best I can!  There’s always one thing or another that keeps popping up and requires my attention,” Charlotte tried to explain.

 

Dr. Scot nods, “I see.  And did you inform your people that you weren’t to be interrupted unless it was an emergency?”

  
“Yes!”

 

“No, she didn’t.”

 

Charlotte slowly turned so she was looking at Xia, a look of betrayal on her face.  “Who’s side are you on?”

 

Xia shrugged, “yours of course.   Things are starting to improve around here, and that’s because of you.  I’d like to see you stay in the position of Commander, so you need to take care of yourself to do that.  If that means snitching on you right now so you’ll slow down, I’m willing to do it.”

 

Dr. Scot smirked as Kairi nodded emphatically.  “See? Your people care about you. Now, because you failed to maintain your promise of the amount of sleep you would be getting _and_ the number of hot meals you’ve eaten, you leave me no choice.”

  
  
“No, you can’t do that,” Charlotte shook her head.  “I don’t have time to be considered “unfit for duty”.”

 

Dr. Scot shrugged as she signed a new piece of paper.  “Should have thought of that before you went and ignored all of the parameters we put in place.  I told you not to try me and yet you did, so now you must suffer the consequences.”

  
  
“You are declared ‘unfit for duty’ Commander Flair. You are officially relieved of duty for the remainder of the week.  At that time we will reevaluate.”

 

Charlotte turned to look at Dr. Sane, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.  “Six days!? You can’t be serious!”

  
  
“We are, and if you fail to adhere to these orders as well, we will extend the time you have off to a month.”  Dr. Scot had the audacity to wink at her, “I recommend you start with a nap, you look like you could use it.”

 

Charlotte watched them leave, then glared at Xia before she stormed off to her bunk.  As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was actually really tired and could use a nap.  _Only an hour or two,_ she promised herself.

 

_____________

 

Charlotte startled awake, her eyes feeling dry and scratchy.  She squinted around the room, her eyes trying to find what exactly it was that woke her up.  Her eyebrows rose when she saw two trays of food and a few ration packs stacked on her chair by the door. 

  
“What the…?”

 

She heaved herself into a seated position and groaned as her body protested at the movement.  She paused when she was sitting on the edge of the bed and put her head in her hands. She took a few seconds to try and wake her mind up.  Everything was fuzzy, almost as if she was dealing with a massive hangover. “What the fuck? How long was I asleep for?”

  
“Thirteen hours.”

  
Charlotte’s head whipped around to the door, her face showing her confusion.  “Thirteen hours? How is that possible? Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  
“Because you needed the sleep,” Xia answered as she slid the tray of hot food on the table next to the chair.  She grabbed the two old trays and turned to leave. “You need to take care of yourself, Commander. Forget that you have work to do and let your replacement take care of some things.”

  
“My replacement?  Who…?”

 

“Kingston.  He’ll take care of it for the next few days.  Go read a book, or take another nap!” Xia yelled out as she walked away from Charlotte’s bunk, leaving the Commander sitting there staring after her.  

 

Charlotte stayed there for a few minutes, trying to force herself awake.  After she felt like she could blink without her eyelids sticking, she pushed to her feet and got dressed.  There was one thing she could think of doing with her time. There was an address that Arn had written on the inside of one of his drawers in a Sharpie marker.  She had always wanted to check it out but never had the time.

 

Until now.

 

So she got herself dressed, ate the food that had been delivered and then grabbed her gear.  She showed the empty tray to Xia as she walked away. Granted it was probably a little childish but being declared ‘unfit for duty’ she was feeling like a child in timeout.

 

She ducked out of the gates of headquarters, happy when no one from the JTF tried to follow her or stop her.  The address was only a few blocks away, and it should only take her about fifteen minutes to get there. And the trip should be relatively easy since it was well within the safety zone.

 

_________

 

Charlotte stared up at the storage unit she was standing in front of.  Of everything she expected the address to be, this was not it at all.  She walked up to the door of the unit and sighed. She could sit there and wonder about it for as long as she wanted, but she wouldn’t know what was inside until she opened it up.

 

She cut the lock off the door and opened it, her mouth dropping as the door rose in front of her.  “Holy shit,” she breathed as she looked at the beat-up 1970 Buick GSX Stage 1 sitting in the spacious unit in front of her.  “When the hell did he get this?” she wondered aloud as she walked in and around the car.

 

It had been a passion of Arn’s to rebuild old muscle cars.  It was something that the two of them had done together. Or, he had rebuilt the cars and she had just spent time in the garage with him doing her homework.  Regardless, it was one of the better memories she had of Arn during her childhood.  

 

She reached a shaky hand out and ran it over the frame of the car as tears stung her eyes.  There was a note tucked in between the frame of the door and the roof on the driver's side. She pulled it free and opened it up.

 

_Hey Slugger,_

 

_If you’re reading this, it means that this isn’t a place that we managed to visit together.  I had gotten this car right before the fall of the city and had every intention of bringing you here to help me rebuild it.  Once we saved the city, that is._

 

_I’m sorry that we can’t do this together like we always used to.  But I hope that when the time comes, you manage to find someone to share this with.  Someone who was as good a helper as you were._

 

_I’m sorry I left you alone with this, that I left you as the Commander, and that you now have to hold everything together on those shoulders of yours.  Use this place as your refuge, as your place to find your peace again. You’re going to need a place where you can just be yourself. Not the Commander, not Lieutenant Flair, not a Division Agent… but just Charlotte._

 

_I hope you find the peace I know you’ll need once you take over.  It can be a hard job, a demanding job. But please remember that it’s a marathon and not a sprint.  Remember to take your time and give yourself plenty of time to relax._

 

_Better yet, I’m giving you permission to take that time.  You have my permission to get sleep, to eat enough and to take time for just you.  Remember that what this city needs more than anything is for the Commander of the Chicago Division Agents to be a functioning person.  They need you to remember who you are as a person, not just as a leader. They need you to remain human._

 

_So find your humanity again by putting this hunk of junk together.  The tools you need are all here, and I left you a book on how to do it since I know you never paid attention when you were younger._

 

_I love you, and am so proud of you,_

_Arn_

 

Charlotte folded the letter and put it in her vest pocket.  She sat down on a nearby stool and let herself cry for her Uncle for the first time since he died several weeks ago.  This car was exactly what she needed to remind her of why she’s doing what she is. She sighed and sat there, letting all of the emotions she had kept in check find a release in the privacy of that storage unit.

 

______________

 

Charlotte adjusted her rifle where it was sitting next to her in the front passenger seat of the Humvee.  She had tried to make this trek alone like she had her excursion to the storage unit, but someone had blabbed about her unaccompanied field trip.  So she had endured separate lectures from Dr. Scot, Naomi, Kofi Kingston and then Lacey Evans about how dangerous it was to be outside the gates without at least one bodyguard.  So here she was, being driven to the Southeast towards the lake.  

 

She wondered if Dr. Scot knew where she was going, and if so, did she object to it?  It wasn't technically working since she was going to see her father’s old battle buddy Tully Blanchard at Soldier Field.  And just because her trip happened to coincide with a previously scheduled trade meeting with the settlement, it wasn’t Charlotte’s fault.  And if on the off chance the conversation was steered towards a trade agreement, then it really wasn’t Charlotte’s fault.

 

So when she had been forced to take bodyguards with her, she had picked ones she knew wouldn’t go tattling on her actual reasons for going to Soldier Field.  

 

Charlotte smiled to herself when she saw the old football stadium looming in the distance.   If she was being honest with herself, the trade agreement was only a small reason she was going to the settlement.  Tully’s daughter Tessa was there, and Charlotte was excited to see her. Tessa who had been Charlotte’s best friend and partner in crime throughout their childhood. Tessa who had graciously allowed Charlotte to stay at her parents’ house when both Ric and Arn had been away for work.  Tessa who had been Charlotte’s one true friend in high school until she wasn’t.

 

Tessa who had become so much more their junior year.  

 

Tessa who had been her first…everything.  Her first kiss, her first relationship, her first lover.  

 

Then they had drifted apart when they went to separate colleges, only managing to come back together on random days that they were both home visiting their parents.  And Charlotte had tried to keep in touch with the brunette over the years, but cell reception was shit in Afghanistan and they had lost touch again. But Tessa was here now and seemed genuinely happy to see Charlotte at Velveteen Bliss for the gala.  

 

Charlotte started to feel giddy as she got out of the Humvee and approached the gate where she was hailed by a guard.  “State your business!”

  
  
Charlotte stopped in the middle of the street and held her hands up.  “Commander Flair, I’m here to see Mr. Blanchard!”

  
  
The guard nodded and then disappeared from on top of the wall.  He appeared a few minutes later with a few more guards and a short man with slicked-back brunette hair.  It was this man who stepped forward and extended a hand, a hint of an accent coming through as he spoke. “Welcome to Soldier Field, Commander Flair!  I am Santino Marella and I was sent to be your guide.”

  
  
Charlotte nodded at him as she shook his hand.   “Thank you for extending me the invitation.”

 

Santino smiled as he turned to walk back into the arena.  “Of course Commander. But ah,” he paused. “I must request that you and your guards leave your weapons here.”

 

Charlotte doesn’t hesitate as she handed over her rifle and sidearm.  “Of course Mr. Marella.”

 

She shot a look at her guards, who begrudgingly did the same.  Once they were all disarmed, Santino continued into the stadium, “now that we have that taken care of, we can begin our tour.  Would you like to see Mr. Blanchard first? Or perhaps a walk around the town first?”

Charlotte considered her options for a few seconds.  “Mr. Blanchard if you don’t mind.”

 

Santino nodded, “follow me then, please.” 

 

He then began leading Charlotte through a series of doors and up several flights of stairs to the luxury boxes.  “Many of these are now condos for our more…well off citizens.”

 

Charlotte took a look around and tried to hide her disgust behind a hum of acknowledgment.  She worked to keep her comments to herself, but couldn’t help but think about what the JTF would be able to do with a place like this, not to mention the supplies this place obviously had.

 

Santino continued to lead them through the VIP area to another part of the stadium.  “We are headed to the former team offices where Mr. Blanchard works. If you’re going to be staying the night, we have been instructed to make one of the boxes available to you.”

 

Charlotte didn’t hesitate to shake her head.  “I appreciate the offer, but we should be able to head back tonight.  I do thank you for the offer of hospitality.”

  
  
The truth was that she didn’t want to spend longer than she needed to in this place.  Originally she had thought it might be a safe haven of some sort, but looking around inside it was obvious that the wealthy were lording their status over the middle man.  This was a place that still held true to the beliefs of pre-Dollar Flu Americans instead of becoming a beacon of hope… a place where anyone could go to get help, food, and shelter.  The very thought made Charlotte’s stomach churn.

 

Santino continued towards the door to the offices.  “Of course, this way please.” 

 

He led them through another few doors.  “Mr. Blanchard has invited you to dine with him, I hope you’re hungry.”

 

He pushed open a door that led into what was once a conference room overlooking the field.  There was a long table that was set up in the middle of the room and even though it spanned the length of the room, it only had four place settings at it.  Between these settings was such a vast amount of food that the table must have been straining under the weight.  

 

Marella cleared his throat once they were all inside the room.  “Mr. Blanchard, Commander Flair is here to see you.”

 

Tully Blanchard looks up from where he was looking at some papers.  He smiled when he saw Charlotte standing there. He stood and walked towards them.  “Thank you, Santino, please see that her guards get a nice meal as well.”

 

He turned to look at Charlotte, the smile still in place and making her skin crawl with how slimy it appeared.  “You don’t mind eating with just the four of us, do you? I’m guessing you want to talk business?”

 

Charlotte managed to keep her features schooled so she doesn’t show the revulsion she was currently feeling at the lavish spread of food before her.  If the JTF could get even a fraction of this, they’d be set for a long time. “I do wish to talk business, so just the four of us will be fine.”

 

Blanchard nodded at Santino as he closed the door.  Once it clicked closed behind him, Tully grinned and walked towards Charlotte with his arms open.  “There she is, little Charlotte Flair. Go on, give your uncle a hug!”

  
  
Charlotte, smiled as the man in front of her changed back into the man she remembered from her childhood.  Gone was the look of the predator she had originally been greeted with, leaving her with the man she loved as her uncle.  “It really is good to see you, Uncle Tully.” 

 

Tully hugged her and then turned to face the room.  “You remember Tessa.”

 

Tessa smirked mischievously from where she sat to her father’s right.  She tipped a wine glass in Charlotte’s direction. “Hello there… little Charlotte….” 

 

Charlotte shivered at the underlying meaning that dripped in Tessa’s voice.  It had been a long time since they had seen each other, but Charlotte’s body remembered how to react to that thick honey sweet voice.  

 

She cleared her throat and tried to hide her blush, though she found herself biting at her bottom lip.  “Of course, how are you, Tessa?”

 

Tessa nodded as she leaned back in her chair, her eyes slowly raking over Charlotte’s form.  “Always happy to see you, Char.”

 

Tully turned and gestured toward the final person at the table, completely unaware of the tension that had suddenly filled the room.  “And this is my advisor, Phil Brooks… though most people call him CM Punk.”

 

Charlotte resentfully moved her gaze from Tessa to regard Brooks. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Brooks,” she nodded at him, a polite smile on her face. 

 

CM Punk inclined his head but doesn’t speak.  

 

“Please, sit.  Eat up,” he pulled out the seat across from Tessa and indicated that she should sit in it. Charlotte smiled at him as she sat.  “You must be getting tired of rations,” he explained as he walked back to his chair. 

 

Charlotte adjusted herself so she was more comfortable in her seat.  “When you do three tours overseas, you kind of get used to them. But a little change of pace never hurt anyone.”

 

A waiter suddenly entered the room and approached Charlotte with an honest to god wine menu.  She took it with a confused look and when she didn’t move, he opened it for her with an encouraging smile on his face.  Charlotte studied his attire and internally sighed. They were employing people as wait staff here. Of course, they were.  The JTF was struggling to survive and help the people of the city and here was Soldier Field, living a life of luxury and overindulgence.  

 

Charlotte smiled awkwardly at him and was about to start looking through it to be polite when Tully cleared his throat.  “I think we can do a little better, don’t you,” he said with a tight smile.

 

Charlotte continued to smile politely as she shook her head.  “I appreciate the gesture, but it’s unnecessary. I’m heading back to the JTF tonight, so probably should avoid drinking.”

 

Tully clapped his hands to summon another waiter.  “A small glass then, and if I remember correctly…” he paused as he thought about it and then snapped his fingers, “... Cabernet Sauvignon?  Yes, that was it.”

 

He waved the waiter away and then turned his sleazy smile towards Charlotte once again.  “I meant it, eat! Your daddy wouldn’t have ever forgiven me if I let you out of here without some food.  That’s quail near you, some charcuterie, deviled eggs, some salads, and whatever else you like on the table, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

 

Charlotte forced another smile, obviously uncomfortable with the spread in front of her and the pressure he was putting on her to eat something.  “Thank you.”

 

Tessa watched the interaction between her father and her… ex.  “Daddy?”

 

Tully turned to face her as he scooped some veal onto his plate.  “Hmm?”

 

Tessa’s eyes drifted back to Charlotte who appeared to be shrinking into her seat.  She studied her intently. “Perhaps Commander Flair would be happier if we provided some food as a gift to the JTF in addition to dinner?”

 

Charlotte shook her head and waved Tessa’s suggestion away.  “No, no. That’s very thoughtful, but I couldn’t impose. This and the chance at a trade agreement is more than enough.”

 

Tully tossed his head back and barked out a laugh that echoed loudly around the large, mostly empty room.  “Well, that’s a Flair for you, too stubborn for their own good. But alright, let’s talk business. You came to us, Charlotte.  What can we do for you?”

 

Charlotte nodded at him, politely declining any food that was being passed her way.  “I did. I am extremely impressed with what you have been able to build here in the short time since the quarantine was imposed.”  

 

She paused here for a few seconds to try and keep her emotions under control.  “Now, unfortunately, Uncle Arn was unable to do the same. What I would like to propose is a trade agreement between your settlement and the JTF.  An open line of trade for weapons, intel, goods, water… the works.”

 

Tully let this proposition sit between everyone and then finally exchanged a look with Brooks and his daughter.  

 

Brooks was the one to speak up.  “And, in exchange?”

 

Charlotte nodded.  “Of course. In exchange, we’d provide assistance with patrols, defenses, and reciprocal trade of course.  I would like for this to possibly blossom into an alliance between us.”

 

Tully watched his daughter for a second.  She blinked a few times and then minutely shook her head.  He turned his attention back to Charlotte. “Any sort of tangible goods to offer?”

 

Charlotte couldn’t contain the sigh that escaped her.  “Right now the only real goods we have are our services and some medication.  Other than that, there’s not much else. But with time, I plan on being able to bring more to the table…” she hesitated.   “So to speak.”

 

There was a flicker of a shadow across Tully’s features, but before Charlotte could identify the emotion behind it, it was gone and the smile was back in its place.  “Well it’s a starting point, isn’t it? Why don’t we finish up eating and then we can get started.”

 

Charlotte studied him for a few more seconds before she nodded.  “That sounds like a plan.”

 

The remainder of the meal passed with companionable, albeit strictly polite conversation.  After about an hour of this, CM Punk and Tully stood to excuse themselves from the room. They had been unable to hash out a solid trade agreement between them and Charlotte had been about to leave with her tail between her legs when Tessa asked to speak privately with Charlotte.  

 

When Tully looked at her questioningly, Tessa had easily supplied that Charlotte might feel more comfortable talking business with a friend instead of such an old man.  Tully had laughed good-naturedly and left the room, wishing the two of them good luck.

 

Charlotte watched as Tessa got up from the table and approached her, the look in her eyes reminding Charlotte of all the times they had been together romantically.   Tessa stopped in front of Charlotte and extended her hand, smiling when Charlotte took it immediately. “Come on, let’s go finish this conversation in my office.”

  
  
Charlotte nodded as she stood, but stayed silent. She didn’t trust her voice at the moment to not give away the desire that was pooling in the pit of her stomach.  When Tessa’s thumb gently ran over Charlotte’s knuckles, the blonde’s knees almost buckled.  

 

They walked for a few minutes down the hallway, stealing quick glances at each other.  Tessa finally cleared her throat as she looked sideways at the Commander. “You look really good.”

 

Charlotte smiled.  “So do you. I was really happy to see you at the gala, really happy knowing you were safe.”

 

Tessa smiled and took Charlotte’s hand again. “So how are things at the JTF, really?”

 

Charlotte sighed and intertwined their fingers.  “They’re… improving. Arn didn’t leave me a lot to work with.  And between you and me, I’m actually on forced sabbatical because of how hard I’ve had to work to keep the place afloat.  The doctors think I’m down here to catch up with old friends.”

 

Tessa raised an eyebrow, the concern obvious on her face.  “Forced sabbatical? So you’re no longer in command?”

 

Charlotte shook her head, quick to try and assure her friend.  “No, I am. Once I start playing by their ridiculous rules. There’s just too much work that has to be done for me to get the amount of sleep they want me to.”

 

“Still a workaholic, huh?” Tessa asked with a chuckle.

 

“When haven’t I been?” Charlotte countered immediately.

 

“Ever since you ruined our sleepover in the 5th grade by making me redo that stupid science project over and over.”

 

Charlotte couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of her.  “We got an A on it though! That made all of that work worth it!”

 

Tessa sighed as she stopped in front of a door.  “Sure, Char… sure.”

 

She opened the door to her office and stepped through, letting go of Charlotte’s hand as she moved.  “Close that, will you?”

 

Charlotte turned her back to Tessa’s office once she was inside and closed the door. When she turned back around, Tessa was leaning against the front of her desk with a very particular look on her face.  “Charlotte…” she said in a tone that Charlotte remembered **_so_** **_well_**.  “...Come over here.”

 

Charlotte tried to ignore the butterflies that exploded in her stomach. She knew she failed miserably to hide the shiver than ran through her body.  “Still demanding as ever, I see.”

 

Tessa simply raised an eyebrow.  “Now.”

 

“And if I don’t?” Charlotte asked as she crossed her arms over her chest in a feeble act of defiance.

 

Tessa’s face didn’t move an inch.  “Charlotte… I said now. Do not make me ask again.”

 

Charlotte’s feet responded on their own as she stutter-stepped towards Tessa, her arms holding her midsection tighter as she lurched forward.  She managed to stop just outside of Tessa’s reach. “Things have changed,” she whispered with a shake of her head. “I’m the joint Commander of the JTF and the Division Agents in Chicago.  I do not come when called like some common whore.”

 

Tessa straightened her posture slightly as she licked her lips.  “You said the same thing when you went to basic, then when you got commissioned, then when you finished SERE… and where did you always end up, baby?”

 

Charlotte whimpered and tried to hold herself tighter even as her body leaned closer to Tessa.

 

“Now!” Tessa barked as she snapped her fingers.  

 

Charlotte lurched forward and almost crashed into her.  

 

Tessa smiled as she steadied the blonde, playing with a lock of the silky smooth hair for a second.  “That’s better, isn’t it… baby girl?”

 

Charlotte nodded as she leaned forward so her forehead is resting against Tessa’s shoulder.  

 

Tessa kept stroking Charlotte’s hair even as she turned her head to kiss the side of Charlotte’s head.  “Did you miss being mine?” she spoke quietly right into Charlotte’s ear.

 

Charlotte whimpered again as she nodded against Tessa’s shoulder.

 

“Commander of the JTF...and the Division… but you’ll always be my little doll, won’t you?” The smirk was obvious with how arrogantly confident she sounded in that second.  

 

Charlotte turned her head and gently kissed Tessa’s neck.  “Always yours,” she whispered.

 

Tessa gently but firmly pushed against Charlotte’s shoulders.  “Take your shirt off, baby.”

 

Charlotte rushed to comply even as she nodded eagerly, hoping to please Tessa with how quickly she was obeying.  

 

Tessa raised an eyebrow when Charlotte’s shirt hit the floor.  She cleared her throat. “I trained you better than this Charlotte… the bra too.”

 

Charlotte sighed contentedly as she took off the bra too.  

 

Tessa purred even as she pointed to the ground in front of her. “Now you kneel, baby.”

 

Charlotte bit her lip to keep from moaning as she knelt right in front of Tessa, who took Charlotte’s head and guided it softly into her lap.  She gently started running her fingers through Charlotte’s hair, smiling when Charlotte hummed in approval. “Good girl… do you remember how we used to do this when you were in officer’s school?  You’d come home and tell me all about the projects that were so hard?”

 

Tessa bent at her waist and placed a kiss on the top of Charlotte’s head.  “Tell me everything about what’s happening at the JTF, Charlotte. Let me help you feel better…”

 

Charlotte shook her head even as she grabbed desperately at Tessa.  She stuttered over a shaky breath. “I… I can’t…”

 

“Shhhhh baby.  Not yet. Let me take care of you first,” she whispered into Charlotte’s hair.  

 

Charlotte nodded and let herself relax completely into Tessa.  It did feel good to have something that felt so familiar to help ground her when everything seemed to be spiraling out of control.  

 

Tessa’s fingers slid gently under Charlotte’s chin and she tugged her up so the blonde was standing in between Tessa’s legs.  “Just relax, let me take care of everything. I’ll take care of you always…” she promised as she tugged Charlotte into a kiss.

 

________________

 

Charlotte sat in the engineering room a few days after her trip to Soldier Field.  She sighed in happiness as she leaned her head up against the wall behind her. Things were looking up for Charlotte in the last week.  They weren’t able to come to an agreement for trading with Soldier Field, but she had left on good terms with a promise that they would discuss it again in the near future.  She had been sleeping a lot more, and Rhea had let her commandeer this corner of engineering when she heard that the doctors were hounding Charlotte. 

 

The Commander was looking at the files of several Agents who had recently gone off the grid. One, in particular, a Rob Conway, had caught her attention. There weren’t too many first wave Agents left, and Charlotte wanted him to come in so they could do a debriefing.  

 

Her radio squawked at her from where it was sitting in front of her.  _“Commander Flair?”_

  
  
Charlotte sighed and picked up the device.  “Yes, Kevin?”

 

_“There’s a uh… there’s an Agent Martinez on the channel for you.”_

 

“That’s great, but I’m still sidelined for the next two days.  Call Kingston,” Charlotte tried to explain.

 

_“We uh… we tried that.  She only wants to talk to you.  And she sounds angry.”_

 

That caught Charlotte’s attention.  She immediately grabbed the files and made her way back to her office.  She picked up the hardwired radio that had been installed in her office.  “Agent Martinez? This is Commander Flair.”

 

“ _Are you proud of yourself?!”_

 

Charlotte hesitated.  “I’m… I’m sorry?”

 

“ _Are you serious? You’re going to play it like that?”_

 

Charlotte blinked at the wall in front of her a few times.  “I’m sorry, I’m a little confused. I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.  If this is about the last time we talked a few weeks ago, I apologize. I shouldn’t have demanded you come North to speak with me.”

 

“ _Wow...OK, I’ll bite and pretend I’m as dumb as you think I am. I don’t fall into line with you, I don’t jump when you snap your fingers and you pull something like this?!”_

 

Charlotte took a steadying breath to keep herself from snapping at the woman on the other end of the radio.  “Look, I don’t appreciate the way you’re handling this conversation, especially when I’m desperately trying to play catch up here.  You made your desire for radio silence clear after you ignored my multiple messages and calls on the radio. So I respected that you didn’t want to speak with me and left you alone.  I haven’t tried to contact you in at least two weeks. So whatever you think it is that I’ve done, you’re mistaken.”

 

“ _Uh-huh. That would be a lot more convincing if your attack dog hadn’t just shown up down here. You think that’s funny? I’m away from the school so you send Agent Orton in to scare the shit out of the CIVILIANS here?!”_

 

Charlotte’s heart stuttered to a stop in her chest.  “My attack dog? You think Orton works for me? He doesn’t, I swear to you.  The last person I sent to the school was Officer Evans three weeks ago. But that’s beside the point.  I need you to listen to me very carefully, Agent Martinez. Orton does not work for me. He’s rogue and working for the Administration.”

 

“ _YOUR COMMAND CODES! YOUR AUTHORIZATION! Jesus, at least have the spine to admit what you did! Your boy scared his way in here and walked off with a week’s worth of food, food that isn’t in a kid's stomach now. I hope you’re happy!”_

 

Charlotte hung her head.  “Fuck, that’s… I know what this looks like.  But he’s not mine. I don’t know how he got my command codes, but it sure as hell wasn’t from me.  You and I may not see eye to eye, but I would never… _never_ fuck with a child’s rations.  The disagreement is between you and me, the people at the school aren’t a part of it, and I would never put their lives in danger willingly or knowingly.  I’m not about strong-arming people into submission.”

 

“ _Yeah, you’re a real peach. Screw you! If your boy shows up here again, I’m putting him down! God damn are you so insecure that the mere existence of people who don’t want to play your game makes you do shit like this?! Stay the fuck away from us.”_

 

Charlotte heard the squeal of the radio at the school as it was dropped heavily onto a solid object.  “No. No… No….” She desperately pushed the transmit button. “Martinez! Martinez!? He’s dangerous! He will kill you!”

 

When there wasn’t an answer, Charlotte tried a few more times and then sighed.  She placed the radio on the desk and then stood to look at her map. She still had two days to herself before she had her session with Dr. Scot to see if she could be reinstated as the Commander.  She nodded once, decisively.  

 

If Martinez was going to be so hard-headed that she wouldn’t listen to Charlotte’s explanation, Charlotte would just have to pester her until she did.  The school may not want to enter an alliance with the JTF, and Charlotte would honor that. But she wasn’t about to sit by and leave them vulnerable to Orton and Sammartino.  She would camp outside the school as long as it took to keep those people safe because Martinez had been right during their last argument: Charlotte couldn’t look short term when it came to the citizens of the city. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are so hugging amazing! When AP and I started out on this journey, we never expected this kind of response. Your kudos, hits, and comments leave us feeling on top of the world. You all continue to amaze us and we love you all more than we can put into words! Thank you!!


	34. Why We Play Our Game - Sasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha Banks weaves together the threads she has been carefully collecting, it is time for her grand plan to take shape with an assist from Straight Fire!

Sasha Banks was having a very good week. 

 

It had begun with her besting of Straight Fire, whose real name was Rebecca Lynch, in the parking garage. The encounter had confirmed Sasha in all that she had hypothesized about the other woman. A low level, extremely limited thinker but a dangerous person in her own element. Despite the other woman’s pathetic bleating on the subject, the trials in the parking garage had not been solely (or even primarily) for Sasha’s amusement. They had been a test.

 

Lynch had passed, after a fashion.

 

And now Sasha was about to complete her plan. The plan that she had initiated shortly after she’d first seen Straight Fire and the evidence of her work. While the other woman would, no doubt, lack the wit to appreciate the fact, Sasha did nothing without a reason. While she couldn’t deny she’d drawn satisfaction from humiliating the other woman, it had severed an important purpose. 

 

An embarrassed Straight Fire would be an angry one, and angry people were always the easiest control. So, through an investment of a few hours of prep work in the parking ramp, Sasha had acquired the best attack dog in the city. And through some tragically simplistic manipulation, she could direct that attack dog where she willed. But this didn’t mean she had no work of her own, no she had her own part to play in the grand design.

 

And she played it now, as she drove the knife she was holding into the side of the man’s neck. It was an awkward move for her, she had to reach up to execute it. But she needed to do something that would hamper his ability to scream. A razor-sharp composite blade severing his trachea did the trick. 

 

The man dropped heavily onto his knees, but Sasha didn’t let him fall. She grabbed him by the shoulder and drove her knife upward into his armpit. Between these two wounds, he was fairly gushing blood. Sasha didn’t take time to admire her work, she took a paintbrush she was carrying off her belt and dipped it into the blood. She had a message to send.

 

She left the building through the same window she had come in through. No one else inside had detected her. They would only find her handiwork when someone checked on the man Sasha had killed. She guessed it wouldn’t be too long, he was the leader of the demon gang that infested the building after all.

 

She didn’t take any time to celebrate. She was immediately off to her next target. 

 

\----------

 

Two hours later, Sasha stepped into the tiny booth and gave her most sultry smile.

 

“What’s with the getup?” the man sitting in the center of the tiny red-lit space asked. He looked disappointed and maybe a little annoyed, but he showed no concern. Which was what Sasha had been hoping for.

 

“I’m a division agent, and you better be careful or I’ll punish you…” Sasha purred huskily as she stepped boldly forward toward the man. This brought a kind of smile to his face that Sasha had seen countless times in her old life as a dancer. He was hers now.

 

“Oh yeah? What does that involve?” the man asked in an oily voice.

 

‘ _ This was entirely too easy’  _ Sasha thought dryly as she perched on the man’s lap.

 

“Have you been bad?” she breathed into his ear. As she did this, she felt the undeniable proof that she was in control.

 

“I’m a bad man,” he answered, though now he sounded both amused and condescending. Good, that meant he wasn’t on alert. 

 

“Well...then I think Agent Banks will have to punish you…” Sasha told him as she slid her fingers down his thighs and stood. “I think I may need to cuff you first…”

 

“Oh yeah…” the man answered eagerly. Sasha just smirked as she trailed a finger along his chest while circling behind him.    
  


“And then…” Sasha purred, taking her time.

 

“And then?” the man asked. Sasha got the impression his eyes were closed.

 

“The garrote,” Sasha said simply as she took the instrument out of her pocket. 

 

“Wha-?” the man started to ask but then he cut off in a strangled gasp. Sasha had draped the fiber wire around his neck, twisted until she was back to back with him, and then dropped down to her knees.

 

His position was helpless. He was much bigger and stronger than Sasha, but he was sitting in a chair with his neck being jerked down over it’s back. If he tried to stand it was more likely he’d simply end up falling. Besides this, in Sasha’s experience, the immediate reflex of people in his position was to attempt to yank at the wire that was strangling them. He might be able to beat Sasha in any other contest of strength, but that didn’t help much if you were dealing with a wire you couldn’t find any purchase on.

 

His kicking and thrashing lasted for almost a minute, during which time Sasha kept heaving downward with all her might. Even when he stopped fighting, she kept the pressure on for another thirty seconds before she let go. She took a few moments then to catch her breath before standing and surveying her work. 

 

The man’s face was blue and his tongue had lolled out of his mouth. His eyes had the unmistakable glassy quality of death. Sasha hadn’t been able to smuggle any other weapons in so she’d have to leave him as he was. But she felt confident that it would be message enough. Stepping back through the rooms only entrance she found herself in a long dark hallway with more red lights.

 

Sasha was in the depths of Velveteen Bliss. The pleasure palace had its own working brothel, most of the girls worked from assigned hotel rooms on the upper floors. But for those clients with more esoteric tastes, there were these rooms. 

 

No one got into Velveteen Bliss without getting disarmed. Sasha could have infiltrated the place but then, had she been discovered, she would have had to kill the person who did the discovering. It would have been sloppy, and Sasha didn’t trade in sloppy. 

 

So she’d just walked in the front door after she’d confirmed that her target would be here. And that he would be indulging in his usual way.

 

She’d then gone down to the brothel, explained that Ms. Bliss had sent her as a special gift for her target. And been told which room to go to. Now, as she walked past the woman who supervised these rooms, Sasha tossed her a grin.

 

“He didn’t take long, let him sleep,” Sasha told her. She got a knowing sort of nod in return before she ascended the steps up to the main floor. Following the signs that directed back to the kitchens, Sasha left the hotel through a back door. She retrieved her weapons and pack from where she’d hidden them, and vanished into the night.

 

\----------

 

Over the next two weeks, several more prominent demons were killed in seemingly impossible ways. Being found with their throats slashed in a locked interior room for example. All of them were left in a horrible state. In other cases, whole outposts were attacked by the relentless force that was Straight Fire. At most of these scenes, the other demons found a new symbol scrawled nearby. A large Brigid's knot, next to a grinning skull. Sasha wasn’t an artist but she had shown a real talent for architectural drawing in her youth and she’d had to work to make sure her skulls weren’t too anatomically accurate in favor of stylization.

 

Whatever their artistic merits, the symbols made one thing clear to their recipients. Straight Fire and the Ghost were hunting them. And this was enough to induce something like blind terror in the demon gangs that had been targeted. Which was exactly what Sasha had hoped would happen. Of course, Lynch knew nothing of this, but the Demons needn’t know that. The fact that Sasha couldn’t put the marks up at all the sights she sent the other woman chasing after was a benefit. It added to the air of uncertainty for the demons.

 

To describe the Demons as a single organization would be to go too far. Sasha had noted before that they functioned as a collection of warring independent tribes and the metaphor was still apt. This state of affairs didn’t preclude some cooperation between different groups, however. This usually only happened when a Demon group came upon a target that couldn’t handle on their own. Or if they were badly threatened.

 

In a way, both situations confronted the downtown Demons.

 

The recent killings, which she’d been focusing on instead of her usual agent hunting, hadn’t been random. She had carefully selected targets for herself (and secretly directed Lynch to others) from all of the bigger downtown Demon gangs and a few smaller associated ones. She had rarely targeted the leaders, however. Instead, she’d deliberately singled out the most aggressive members of each group. The ones who would want to go on the offensive and those that were most likely to resist cooperation.

 

Sasha had also instructed JTG and Shad to begin selling the rumor that the Ghost and Straight Fire had resolved their differences and were now working together. For a pair of idiots, they were certainly very useful at disseminating information. Within days the rumor had set downtown alight. It had meant hope for some and gut-wrenching fear for others. All while further adding to the feeling of uncertainty that Sasha had worked so hard to cultivate in the area. 

 

As a final touch, Sasha had made sure to punish several Demon patrols along a rough perimeter around downtown in a very severe way. If her reads on the various Demon leaders were correct, this would prompt most of them to dig in within the ‘safe’ area. To encourage this thinking, Sasha had ceased her own operations inside this perimeter and provided Lynch with a red herring concerning a group of embattled civilians north of downtown to draw her off. The area inside her new perimeter would seem a sea of tranquility for the Demons. And with their most bellicose members dead, they would want to stay there.

 

More than that, they would seek safety in numbers. And, unless Sasha missed her guess, they would seek an alliance. And Sasha never missed on her guesses. She didn’t miss, period. To make sure of this, she’d even provided the Demons with an ideal place to hole up. 

 

For several months, a small detachment of SHIELD soldiers had been occupying a mid-sized condominium along Ogden slip. They had turned the place into a veritable fortress, complete with military-level hardware. Sasha would have been hard-pressed to dig them out on her own. So she’d simply shot the Major in charge of the outpost, plus his second in command while setting up a signal jammers on several roofs around the outpost. Deprived of contact with their superiors and running low on supplies after a few days the soldiers had begun to send out runners. All of whom had vanished.

 

Sasha hadn’t been the one to kill them however, she’d just made sure that the Demons learned that the SHIELD outpost was vulnerable. They’d taken care of the rest and eventually, the remaining soldiers evacuated aboard a Coast Guard cutter they had appropriated. The very next day, Sasha had learned that the Demon leaders were planning to meet there. Having ensured that the Demons would be feeling quite cooperative and scared, Sasha had no doubt they would be moving in soon.

 

Which meant she had a great deal of work to do.

 

\----------

 

The time had finally come for Sasha. Now she would get to see the fruit of all her scheming and plotting. The vast majority of the downtown Demon population were now inside the building she was watching from a distant rooftop. 

 

Sasha shot a glance down at the control panel beside her. Before she used it, she found herself feeling a spark of amusement. Sasha had certainly done the lion's share of the work and all the planning, yet this success wouldn’t have been possible without Rebecca Lynch. 

 

Her relentless headlong attacks had forced the demons onto the defensive, leaving them more vulnerable to Sasha’s particular skills. The mere name of ‘Straight Fire’ had been enough to scare some of the demons into line. Coupled to the nearly supernatural dread that all of Chicago accorded to the ghost, it had been a potent combination. 

 

Sasha recalled the red-haired woman’s words from the parking ramp. Lynch had lamented that they could be working together. This brought a bemused smirk to Sasha’s lips. They could never work together, the other woman lacked the intellect to appreciate how Sasha operated never mind keep up with it. No, she was far better suited to being used as a blunt instrument in Sasha’s precise hands. Anything more like a partnership was simply unthinkable. 

 

Sasha refocused on the condominium and smiled, a rare genuine smile for her. She was feeling the satisfaction of a job well done. 

 

Before the Demons had moved in, Sasha had swept the condominium and made some subtle additions. Namely, she’d placed demolition charges on several key outrigger columns, concealing them within the ceilings on multiple floors. She’d gone to the basement, found the sewer line, and broke it open. The stench had been almost like a physical force, but this was all to the good. 

 

The foul order would discourage anyone from spending too much time in the lower levels. It would also cover the smell of the bags of fertilizer she’d concealed in several closets in the basement. Sasha wasn’t an engineer but she believed she’d done sufficient research and done her math correctly. Her preparations should be enough, but she would know for sure in a moment.

 

Picking up the control she lifted the lever guards and put her middle and pointer fingers on the first two switches. Blowing out her breath slowly, as she did when she took a shot, she flipped both levers. Even at her present distance, Sasha heard the loud pops that signified the detonations of the charges on the upper floors. The explosion in the basement wouldn’t be audible, but she knew it would be enormous. Not just because of the charge or the fertilizer either. The real reason why she’d broken into the sewer line was to allow the slow build-up of certain flammable gases that came off of sewage.

 

Sasha may not have heard the larger explosion, but she saw its results. She watched through binoculars as the whole structure seemed to shiver as nearly every window shattered simultaneously. For several seconds, nothing else happened, but then the building shook again. It didn’t happen quickly but by lurches and jerks, it began to collapse in on itself. Deprived of so many key support columns it could no longer support its own weight. And once the process started it picked up speed with frightening rapidity. 

 

It was likely that everyone in Chicago heard the loud roaring sound that accompanied this event. It didn’t take long before a huge cloud of dust obscured Sasha’s view. But she didn’t need to see anymore. She knew she’d accomplished her mission. Just one thing left to do.

 

She flipped the final switch. And, as she walked away, a large Brigid's knot burst into flame on a billboard only a few blocks from the billowing dust cloud. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You magnificent people! You've done it! By Arceus you did it! We're going to make it over 3,000 hits! AHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
> 
> Let's celebrate, shall we? If you haven't left a comment, leave on now! We would love to talk to you! And keep your eyes peeled for a special chapter from LL that will be out soon!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	35. Personnel File : Becky Lynch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A personnel workup of Agent Becky Lynch by Dr. Scot and Commander Flair

**PERSONNEL WORKUP: DIVISION AGENT**

 

Workup performed by Dr. Lindsay Scot, clinical psychologist previously employed by the CPD to provide assistance to officers in regards to the mental and emotional ramifications resulting from their performance of duty.  Brought on to the Chicago JTF branch by previous Division Commander Arn Anderson to provide the same care for both Division Agents and JTF members alike. The following workup was completed after several meetings with the below-mentioned agent.  Further adjustments to this workup will follow pending future sessions. 

 

**NAME :**   Rebecca Lynch

 

**RANK :**   Agent

 

**STATUS :** Active

 

**LOCATION :**   Chicago

 

**COMMANDING OFFICER: **  Charlotte Flair

  
  


**HISTORY :**

 

There isn’t much known about Agent Lynch’s early childhood in Ireland, and she refuses to speak about it in every session we have had to date.  She remains firm in her belief that her past is her past and there isn’t anything that will change that. She acknowledges that it has helped shape her into who she is as a person, and has solidified her need to stand up for the underdog and less fortunate.  But beyond that acknowledgment, she remains resolute in staying silent. No matter how many times or different ways that I have asked her to tell me about it. It has gotten to the point that she has become stringently defensive about it.  

 

What we do know about Agent Lynch is that she arrived in America when she was eighteen on a tourist visa, which she then somehow managed to turn into a green card in seemingly record time.  Since her arrival in the United States, Agent Lynch has lived and worked in Chicago, claiming that the city has a certain “charm” that reminds her of Dublin in a way. I believe she is referring to the crime rates that are comparable between the cities, but that is mere speculation at this moment in time.

 

She initially got a job as a bartender for a local bar near Ukranian Village, worked her way up to manager and then finally bought the establishment when the owner was ready to retire.  Lynch then remodeled the building into an Irish style pub which she also renamed  _ Tearmann _ .  That fact led to several brawls outside the location in the early days after the remodeling because the people who lived in that part of the city felt her to be encroaching on their area.  Lynch gained some minor social media notoriety when a video of her throwing an intoxicated patron three times her size out onto the street went viral. A Youtube channel was then created by patrons of the bar to upload videos of her doing this almost every night.  Agent Lynch was recruited to the Directive 51 by former Commander Anderson, though if they had a connection beyond that is unknown and another thing that Agent Lynch refuses to speak about. 

  
  
  


**NOTES:**

 

Agent Lynch is stubborn, opinionated, and oftentimes unapologetic, which has gotten her into some rather unfortunate situations over the years.  However, her quick wit and ability to think on her feet, along with her way outside the box thinking has kept her not only alive but also thriving in this atmosphere.  Her bravado has done her well in developing and maintaining the Straight Fire persona, which she then allowed to grow into a mythos of seemingly larger than life proportions.  

 

Straight Fire in and of itself is a cleverly constructed mask that Agent Lynch maintains to provide what she considers to be the best form of protection for the citizens against the warring factions.  And while I could spend an entire Ph.D. level thesis on Straight Fire alone, I will comment that the idea, while flawed does help to maintain a semblance of order among the citizens. Allowing the myth to carry most of the weight on its reputation alone was a rather brilliant move on Agent Lynch’s part.  It allows her to continue to hold control of her area based on fear alone, while still balancing that line of remaining a hero to the people.  

 

Agent Lynch herself is a rather difficult person to understand at first glance.  She appears to be less intelligent than she is, though after spending a few minutes with her, it became quite clear that that is a tactic she uses in her favor.  She is empathetic and is focused more on other people’s needs than her own, which might develop into self-sacrificial tendencies later on. If it has not developed into one already.  It has also come to my attention over our sessions that she uses humor to deflect when something is bothering her. Which might also enhance her need to remain behind the persona of Straight Fire.  This will be something that I continue to monitor moving forward, simply because it could be easy for her to get lost behind that mask to keep herself safe.  

 

Overall, Agent Lynch is a strong agent who will be more than beneficial to the overall mission of both the Division and the JTF.  She appears to be more than loyal to the cause and will be a strong ally moving forward. Given the right circumstances, I can see Agent Lynch thriving with proper leadership and guidance.   

  
  


**COMMENTS FROM COMMANDING OFFICER :** Charlotte Flair

 

Agent Lynch is infuriating, difficult, loud, obnoxious and rarely takes anything seriously.  She lacks any sort of tactical training and even had to be retrained on how to perform the job she had originally been trained for.  She challenges all authority at every turn and is more of a wild card in the field than anything else. And on several occasions she has abandoned her position in the field to come to the aid of Agents and JTF personnel in distress, leaving the flanks exposed and our LMG operator alone and exposed.

I have wondered on occasion why Anderson pulled her into the Division.  She’s untrained, uninformed on tactics, and occasionally unprofessional. With no background in the military, law enforcement or as a first responder, it does beg the question of what is she even doing here.

 

Those were all opinions and observations I had upon initially meeting Agent Lynch and watching her operate in a few missions.  Now that she and I have been on several operations together, I can honestly say that once she learns the movements of her teammates, Agent Lynch is invaluable.  Initially, she is awkward and clunky in the field, but once she understands how her LMG operator moves, she adapts and moves fluidly. Watching the transformation has been rather amazing.  And if nothing else, she works brilliantly as a distraction.

 

To describe Agent Lynch as an explosives expert would be a stretch and a half.  How she learned to mix those chemical canisters is a bit of a conundrum, but overall I won’t complain about it because they have bailed us out of more situations than anyone should count.  And even with a lack of professional training in explosives, she has deadly accuracy with both her hand-tossed incendiary devices and the ones fired from her launcher.  

 

Overall, Agent Lynch is quickly becoming one of our most devastating Agents.  She thinks quickly on her feet and in a way that seems to be backwards to most other forms of reasoning and logic.  It is because of just how obscure her thinking is that it has become a reliable tactic for us on larger missions because the only ones who expect it are people who have worked with her before.  This makes her dangerous in a way that is very difficult to explain. It’s as if once you think you have her figured out, she not only flips the script but changes the language it’s written in as well.  

 

Agent Lynch has completely changed my original view of her the more time we work together. She remains loud, infuriating, obnoxious and difficult.  She also continues to push back and challenge my authority. But she is also proving to be reliable, tenacious and loyal. She is a good source of knowledge when it comes to what is happening outside of HQ, and her bar has been instrumental in helping the citizens of this city.  If we continue to work together, I see Agent Lynch becoming an integral part of the inner workings of the JTF and Division. She is smart, well-liked, and has the characteristics of being a leader without actually trying to be a leader. If she continues how she has been, Agent Lynch will easily become one of my go-to Agents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all so amazing! Here's another personnel file as our way of saying thank you for all the love you've been showing this story! Seriously, all the hits, kudos, and comments make us so hugging happy! You are the best readers a writer could ask for.


	36. Another day, another trap - Becky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Becky hears about the condo the Ghost blew up and has to go investigate.

Becky grunted as she lifted the final box onto the table at the back of the multi-purpose room.  She leaned up against the table and looked over at Kacy Catanzaro, who was currently looking through the supplies Becky had dropped off.   
  


“There’s more here than what we agreed on.”

 

Becky nodded and pointed at her eyebrow and the newer looking stitches that were there.  “Felt I owed ya fer these. Also, fer helpin that family ta get relocated last week.” Becky sighed as she stood up and walked towards Kacy.  “You lot ‘ave been helpin out more than I could ‘ave ever hoped for. And I owe ya, so there it is.” She motioned toward the boxes stacked there.  

 

Kacy shook her head, “we should be the ones thanking you.  After you took out all of those Demons in that building… their presence has really gone down.”   
  


Becky looked confused.  “Yeah, o’course. But that was weeks ago, and I haven’t noticed a drop in ‘em bein around ‘ere.”

 

This time Kacy looked confused.  “What do you mean weeks ago?” she asked.

 

“Tha one tha Burchills were hidin out in,” she answered with a raised eyebrow.  She watched as that doesn’t seem to register with Kacy at all. “Tat’s not what yer talkin about?”

 

Kacy shakes her head.  “No, I was talking about the one a few days ago.  The condos over on Ogden?”

 

Becky shook her head, “I don’t know what yer talkin about, lass.  T’at one wasn’t me.”

 

Kacy hummed as she started organizing the items in the boxes.  “Sure it wasn’t. That would be more believable if there hadn’t been one of your knots burning on a billboard right where the building used to be.”

  
  
Becky went completely still as she studied Catanzaro.  “There was a knot... one of  _ my _ knots... and it was on fire?”

 

Kacy simply nodded as she moved medical supplies from one box into another.  “I feel like you organize these boxes this way just to bother me. None of this makes sense.”

 

“Yer sure it was on fire.  And on a billboard?”

 

Kacy stopped what she was doing and looked at Becky.  “Are you okay?”

 

“Aye, lass.  I just… I ‘ave ta go.”

  
  
Kacy’s brows furrowed as she watched Becky quickly leave the room, looking more concerned than she had ever seen the Irish woman.  She reached for a radio. “You there? Our mutual friend has a problem….”

  
  


_____________

  
  


Becky grumbled to herself as she moved through the streets, Cú Chulainn following behind her happily.  He was darting all over the street, smelling almost every car that had been abandoned. She watched him for a few seconds, her mind wandering to her last meeting with the Ghost before she refocused her attention on the street around her. The last thing she needed was to get caught up in one of the Ghost’s traps again. 

 

It was obvious that this was her doing.  It would have taken at least a little bit of planning and the Ghost was the only one Becky could think of that could pull this off besides herself.  And if that wasn't evidenced enough, the flaming knot on the billboard was the nail in the coffin. No one else would have the guts to make her mark that noticeable, that brazen.  This was definitely the Ghost, and once Becky surveyed the damage, she would assess her next move. And that move would probably be hunting down the Ghost and taking her out.

 

Becky shook her head and tried to focus back on what she was doing.  She could wonder about future plans later when she was safely back at Tearmann.  But out in the open, she needed to stay in the here and now, otherwise, she could end up in the shit with no way out.  She sighed and hefted her rifle, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the area around her. She could feel her mind creeping back to places that it shouldn’t be going, even as she tried to desperately cling to what needed to be focused on.

 

_ Farewell my country a long farewell _

_ My tale of anguish no tongue can tell _

 

Becky started to quietly sing to herself as she continued moving towards Ogden street.  Sometimes she needed something that would keep her mind focused, and more often than not singing would keep her mind where it needed to be.  The usually repetitive nature of lyrics made music simple enough for her sometimes spiraling mind to remain calm and on the task at hand.   

 

_ For I’m forced to fly o’er the ocean wide _

_ From the home I love by Lough Sheelin side _

_ How proud I was of my girl so fair  _

_ I was envied most by the young men there _

_ When I brought her back a bashful bride _

_ To my cottage home by Lough Sheelin side.   _

 

She maneuvered herself carefully down the street, trying to keep herself as quiet as possible even as she sang.  It was hard to pinpoint exactly when the Ghost had been through here last, even if the condo went down a few days ago.  It could be that the Ghost was lying in wait for her to come to investigate. That wouldn’t be too far outside the realm of possibility.  It would be right up the Ghost’s alley, fit right into her usual game plan...set a trap and wait for Becky to come running right into it.  She had done it several times already, but the way that the Ghost had the bait set up Becky couldn’t bring herself to ignore it. And if the Ghost wanted to catch Becky in an ambush, this would be something that would bring Becky running.  That was something the Ghost would know.

 

_ Farewell my love, a fond adieu  _

_ Farewell my comrades, and my country too _

_ For I’m forced to fly o’er the ocean wide _

_ From the home I love by Lough Sheelin side.   _

 

 Becky’s singing turned into a hum as she approached what was left of the building.  The devastation was rather impressive if Becky was being honest with herself. And she was… albeit rather begrudgingly.  To bring down this entire building would take quite a bit of explosive material, and seeing this up close confirmed it. This was definitely the Ghost’s doing.  She just didn’t know why the Ghost had picked this target and this style of attack.

 

Cú Chulainn ran off, his nose buried deep in the rubble as his tail wagged and he followed a particular scent around the outer perimeter of the debris.  “Don’t wander, ya hear?”   
  


Cú yipped in response as he kept sniffing around.  

 

Becky knelt next to one of the bigger piles, reaching out and moving a piece of cinder block.  She sighed as she tossed it to the side. “What tha fuck is she doin?” she whispered to herself as she looked around the area.  

 

The knot was still obvious on the billboard about half a block away from the building.  Whatever the Ghost had used to burn the mark into the material, had stopped burning after being ignited, leaving the rest of the billboard untouched.  

 

“What tha fuck was tha endgame ‘ere?” Becky asked as she stood up and started walking the perimeter where Cú had gone.  The smell of burnt and decaying flesh was strong and prominent, which meant that quite a few people lost their lives in this building.  It was just hard to say if they were faction or civilian. It didn’t seem the Ghost’s style to kill civilians, but if she had suddenly decided to turn on Becky and change everyone’s opinion of Straight Fire, this would be one of the quickest ways to get it done.

 

“So it was the Ghost.”

 

“Fer fuck’s sake!” Becky yelped as she turned around, her rifle up and pointing right at ODB’s chest. 

 

“Lower that, would you?” she asked nonchalantly as she stepped over some debris and came to a stop next to Becky.  

 

Becky lowered her rifle and looked at the scavenger quizzically.  “Ya thought this was me? I don’t think so, lass.”   
  


ODB shrugged.  “I couldn’t be sure.  A lot of rumors going around about this.”   
  


“Oh?”  Becky asks as they keep walking around what was left of the building.  

 

The older woman nodded, kicking some concrete out of her way.  “Some think it was civilians in there, but that group believing it is really small.  Most think it was a lot of Demons holed up in here.”   
  


Becky squinted at the surrounding buildings.  “Why do you think it was Demons?”

 

“Because I told her it was Demons.”

 

The two women turned and watch as Toni walked over to them.  “I’d been watching this building for a while, especially when the activity picked up after the SHIELD moved out.” 

 

Becky looked between the two scavengers, a look of suspicion crossing her features.  “What are you two doin’ here?”

 

Toni immediately looked busted, but ODB shrugged.  “Catanzaro called, said you looked distracted and a little…off.”

 

 Becky rolled her eyes, “so you three are all gangin’ up on me?  T’at ain’t fair.”

  
  
Toni smiled as she reached down and to pet Cú’s head as he came loping over, his tongue out and lolling to the side.  “Not ganging up, mate. Protecting our assets. For a lot of us ta stay in business, your bar needs to stay up and runnin’.  Can’t do that if you’re dead.”

 

Becky sighed as she looks at Toni, “so you were sayin’ that it was Demons in ‘ere?”   
  


“Yeah, they moved in when the SHIELD moved out.”

 

“Heard it was a lot of the heads of the different groups,” ODB supplied as they started walking the perimeter again.  “Whatever the Ghost is doing, they have a plan.”   
  


Toni nodded and then looked over at Becky.  “Any idea what it is?”

 

“Why would I know what it is?” Becky asked, the confusion obvious on her face.

 

“Oh, you haven’t heard then?” ODB asked with a shit-eating grin on her face.

 

“Heard what?”

 

Toni sighed and bit the bullet when it was obvious ODB wasn’t going to explain.  “Word is you two are working together now.”

 

Becky looked at them with a look of shock and disgust on her face.  “Why would you think I'd be workin’ with that bitch?”

 

“The fact that your knot and a grinning skull have been seen marking certain locations,” Toni supplied as she kicked over some debris to look underneath it.

 

“What!? She’s been leavin’ combined marks!?”

 

ODB adjusted her pack.  “You really hadn’t heard.”

 

“No, I hadn’t.”  Becky shook her head.  “I can’t believe you two thought t’at might be tha case.”

 

Toni shook her head.  “Never said I did, just what everyone’s been saying, mate.”

 

Becky was about to say something else when the radio on her pack made a high pitched screech as if whoever was on the other end had no idea how to handle a radio.  

 

_ “Hello?  Straight Fire?” _

 

Becky pulled her radio off her pack and hit the transmit button.  “Aye, where are ya?”

  
  
_ “Your building on West Adams between South Hamilton and Leavitt.  There’s —” _

 

The rest of the young boy’s voice was cut off by rapid gunfire and a scream.

 

Becky didn’t even wait to hear the rest before she was taking off at a sprint.  That building was not one of hers, she didn’t even know it existed until right this moment.  And it was so far outside her usual patrol route, that she wouldn’t have even considered it a possibility.  

 

Which could only mean one thing.  It was another one of the buildings that the Ghost had marked in her fucked-up mission to do whatever it was she was doing.  Another building Becky didn’t know about, another set of lives in danger, another possibility for Straight Fire to fail without even knowing it.

 

Toni and ODB yelled out a protest as Becky took off running, Cú Chulainn right on her heels.  Toni shot a quick look at the other woman before she too took off after Becky’s quickly retreating figure.  

 

“She had better pay me handsomely for this,” ODB grumbled to herself as she joined the chase as well.

 

It took about fifteen minutes for them to make it to the street they needed to be on, with Becky finally coming to a stop a block away from the obvious building they were aiming for.  There was a group of Demons with their faces painted like sugar skulls, standing around outside what looked like an apartment building.  

 

At the head of the group was a woman with dark shoulder-length hair and a black corset standing at the front door, trying to kick it in.  Her scream of rage was echoing off the otherwise empty street. The rest of her group seemed to be… skulking around in the street, completely unafraid and unperturbed.

 

Becky reached into her pack and pulled out a canister with a purple marked lid and slid it into her launcher.  She moved quickly up to a car that was abandoned nearby and leaned her launcher on the hood of the car. She took a steadying breath and then let the canister fly.  

 

Three of the Demons had been standing in the middle of the street behind the woman, staring up at the front of the building as they swayed creepily side to side.   The canister exploded right near their feet, emitting a greenish cloud around them that slowly crept up around their legs, then torso. At first, there didn’t seem to be anything happening until one of the Demons started to cough a little, then the second Demon started.  Finally, the third Demon started coughing a little which quickly progressed into a violent cough, until all three were vomiting blood a few seconds later.  

 

When more of the Demon group gathered around them to see what the problem was, Becky let loose with another canister that exploded into a fireball, engulfing several of the Demons in the flames.  

 

Several gunshots rang out from behind Becky as Toni and ODB opened fire, taking on the remaining Demons that were trying to run from the flames.  Beck shifted position and picked up her rifle, taking aim at the woman at the front door who was now crouched down and staring out at the street.  

 

Her eyes scanned the barricades and landed on Becky who was aiming at her.  A creepy grin spread across her face as her head tilted slightly from side to side.  “Straight Fire,” she taunted in a creepy voice, “come out to play.”

 

Becky shuddered and shook her head, pressing on the trigger sending a spray of bullets downrange towards the woman.  She cackled and moved off the stoop so she was hiding behind cover.  

 

“I knew you’d come, Straight Fire!  All the Demons you’ve killed, it’s time you pay!”

 

More Demons suddenly started pouring out of the buildings around them, the woman from the stoop now standing and laughing maniacally.  “I knew it would work! I knew someone in trouble would get you to come running! You and your stupid knots! Let us know exactly which buildings to hit.  All I had to do was wait.”

  
  
Becky turned her attention from the monologuing leader to start addressing the Demons that were now charging at her, ODB and Toni.  Becky cursed under her breath. She had never meant for her friends to get caught up in this… whatever this feud truly was between her and the Ghost.  

 

And this was an obvious part of that feud because this trap had the Ghost written all over it.  It was true, Becky had been trying to hunt Rosemary’s group of Demons before the Ghost had interjected herself into Becky’s life.  But she had been forced to let the hunt go so she could chase down all of the Demons that the Ghost had wanted her to. And now as her way of showing her gratitude, the Ghost had pointed Rosemary right to Becky and what was probably an already dead family.  

 

Toni and ODB readjusted their positions and were working to provide Becky with covering fire so she could get out of the funnel she was currently caught in.  She reached down and pulled a frag grenade and a smoke grenade off of her belt and let both fly. The frag managed to take out a few Demons, letting Becky stay undercover until the smoke got thick enough to mask her movement.  

 

She managed to fall back to a car closer to where ODB and Toni were set up and let another incendiary canister fly towards the group. 

 

“No, wait!” Becky called out as Cú bolted past her and towards the fire that was now fully engulfing a few more Demons.  There was a large growl followed by an agonizing scream and the sound of crunching bones.

 

Becky winced as she popped up from behind her car and fired off a few rounds while ODB shifted her position so she was off of Becky’s left.  “You know this is going to cost you major, right?”

 

“Better not be any of my good stuff you have in mind, lass!” she yelled back as she popped off a few more rounds.

 

There was a pause as ODB fired off some of her own and then ducked back down to reload.  “I wasn’t even thinking about that until you mentioned it. But now maybe I might.”

 

“You can get fucked!” Becky answered as she launched another three canisters, one right after the other towards the Demons.  

 

ODB laughed as she leaned over the hood of the car she was behind and started firing at what was left of the group in front of them.  Toni joined them a few seconds later to Becky’s right and between the three of them and Cú, they had the street cleared in a few minutes.  

 

When everything got quiet, Beck waited a few seconds and then stood up from where she was taking cover, her rifle fully loaded and pointing down the street.  Several Demon bodies lay scattered everywhere, but Rosemary herself was nowhere to be found.  

 

Becky cursed at the fact that she missed the other woman and slowly made her way towards the apartment building.  She had a sneaking suspicion that there wasn’t anyone in trouble in the building since there never was in any of the other Ghost’s traps.  But Becky had to check for herself. She wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if this  _ one time _ there had been someone in need inside.  

 

She took a deep breath, whistled for Cú and pushed her way past the flimsy barricade holding the door in place.  A barricade that wouldn’t have been able to keep Rosemary out… not with how hard she had seemed to be hitting the door.  This was looking more and more like another trap with each passing second, so much so that she was praying she was right.  Then the only people who got hurt were her and the dead Demons outside.  

  
  


___________________

 

 

Becky was sore, tired and covered in filth.  The wound over her right eye that Kacy had stitched up a day ago was busted open and bleeding freely down her face, where it mixed disgustingly with her own sweat and grime from being in a firefight.  All she wanted to do was take a shower and fall in bed.  

 

She knew that would have to wait for at least a little while though because as gross as she was, Cú Chulainn was worse.  So she needed to bathe him before he took it upon himself to commandeer part of the bed like he had been the last couple of nights when Becky had been too tired to kick him out. 

 

As Becky approached her bar, a movement behind one of the windows caught her attention.  She whistled for Cú to stop and he did, sitting right next to her as she crouched and watched for the movement again.   It came a few seconds later. Whoever it was didn’t seem to be moving too quickly, as if they were comfortable in the bar and completely undisturbed with the fact that they were in Straight Fire’s bar.  

 

Becky’s eyes shot up to the turrets, which seemed to still be activated and the light that she usually left on to let people know she was open was turned off.  That meant whoever was inside might not belong in there. She took a steadying breath and checked the magazine on her rifle before moving to the side door. It was a few doors down in a shop, but there was a tunnel that ran from that shop to the basement of her bar.  

 

It took her another few minutes before she was standing at the bottom of the stairs in her basement, her rifle up and pointing at the door.  She considered turning on her ISAC Node to get an infrared read on who and how many were inside.  But turning on her node would notify the JTF of her location, and getting pulled into the fold by Arn would put a massive damper on what she was trying to do out here to help people.  Becky crept up a few steps, her heart rate picking up and her breathing becoming a little stressed.  That is until Cú ran past her and barked at the door to the bar.

 

She watched him curiously for a few seconds before the door opened and Kayla’s head poked into the stairs.  “Cú?”

 

The young girl looked from the dog who was happily licking at her hands to Becky who was still crouched a few stairs down.  “What are you doing?”

  
  
Becky rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly.  “Could ask you the same thing, lass,” she grumbled as she walked up the rest of the stairs and into the bar.  

 

Ethan was sitting at the bar and he turned to watch his daughter and Becky walk up from the stairs.  He winced when he saw the state Becky was in. “Rough day?”

 

Becky just looked at him and then pointed at how dirty she was.  “Ya think, old man?”

 

He chuckled and then wrinkled his nose.  “One of you smells really bad.”  

 

Ethan turned to Kayla, “how about you take Cú out back and give him a bath real quick while I talk with Rebecca for a second.”

  
  
Kayla beamed as she whistled for the Beauceron to follow her through the kitchen, nodding when Becky told her where to find some soap for the dog.

 

Once the door to the kitchen closed, Becky looked back at Ethan.  “I have some questions.”

  
  
Ethan sighed and nodded, “I figured you would.  We didn’t mean to intrude, but we were out scavenging when we ran into some Demons that were out and about.  It seems like the ones that are left in the area are pushing south since the condo went down a few days ago. We didn’t want to get into any trouble, so we ducked in here to wait their patrols out for a while.  I hope that’s okay.”

  
  
Becky nodded as she dropped her pack near the stairs and unslung her rifle.  “Aye, lad. That’s why I gave ya tha disarm codes. Just surprised me is all.”

 

Ethan smiled and nodded a few times.  “Okay, good. The last thing I want to do is invade your space and take it away from you.”

 

“Nah, that’s what this place is for, it ain’t just my safe place.  It’s everyone's… that’s why I named it what I did.”

  
  
“Tearmann?  I’ve been meaning to ask about that,” Ethan said as he watched the Agent closely.  

 

Becky limped around the bar and grabbed a bottle of bourbon, pouring herself a drink and then one for Ethan as well.  “Aye, means sanctuary or asylum.  When I bought it from tha previous owner, I wanted it ta be a place fer everyone ta feel comfortable in... give them a home away from home.”

 

Ethan hummed in acknowledgment.  “Especially you?”

  
  
Becky narrowed her eyes at him, and he could see that her walls went back up briefly.  “We ain’t there yet.”

 

He nodded and took a sip of the drink in front of him.  “Understood.  Sorry to overstep.  How about you go shower, and I’ll cook something that we grabbed while we were out and about.  Then I can look at that cut on your eye.”   
  


Becky waved her hand dismissively as she blew out a sharp breath of air.  “Ain’t necessary.”

  
  
“Actually it is.  Don’t want it to get infected.  Now go… shoo.”

 

Becky was already moving towards the stairs.  “Did ya just shoo me in me own bar?”

 

Ethan nodded, “I sure did.  Now go.”

 

There was a scoff from the redhead as she ascended the stairs and got ready for a shower.  

  
  


________________

  
  


Becky walked down the stairs, her fingers finishing up the braid that she was tying her hair up in.  The bar smelled like some sort of cooking meat and gravy, a smell that hadn’t been in the bar in months since Becky mostly took only the worst rations for herself and gave the rest to people stopping in for help.  It was something she missed dearly and would give an arm and a leg to have happen again.  

 

Ethan looked up as she stepped off the final stair, “feel better?” he asked.

 

Becky nodded and slid onto a stool next to him.  Kayla giggled from where Cú was licking her hand while she was trying to throw darts and Becky looked from the young girl to the first aid kit that Ethan had spread out on the bar top.  “What’s that for?”

 

He grinned as he stood up and took out the rubbing alcohol.  “You. Now hold still and lean your head back slightly.”

 

Becky glared at him but when he only returned her look, she complied all the while grumbling about how it was only a cut and not that big of a deal.  

 

Ethan warned her before he poured some of the alcohol over the cut, jumping only slightly when Becky let out a rather loud “FUCK!”  He sighed and swatted at her arm. “Language young lady.”

 

Becky bit her tongue to hold back some of the more colorful language that wanted to come out.  “Sorry, but that hurt.”  

 

Ethan looked at her like she was being dramatic.  “You’re Straight Fire. Suck it up.”

 

Once he was done cleaning and bandaging her wound, he went into the kitchen and brought out three plates balancing on his forearms.  “Kayla, come grab something to drink…. Non- alcoholic,” he amended at the end when she looked thrilled.  

 

Becky chuckled at how quickly the young girl’s face fell when her dad caught on to what she was planning almost immediately.  It was weird having these two here in the bar. Not necessarily a bad weird, but a… loud weird. It was something that the bar was missing since the world ended and Becky had been forced to readjust to the bar being quiet for a long time.  It was different and something she would have to get used to, especially with how comfortable they already seemed to be making themselves.  But it was a different she wouldn't mind getting used to.

 

She sighed.  When she signed on to join the Division, she never saw herself taking on a father and daughter as things she would have to take care of and worry about.  But this, this thing that was happening right here, this is what she was fighting for.  It made sense to her that this would be the natural progression from the fear and tragedy of the Dollar Flu to life trying desperately to get back to normal.  And as Ethan and Kayla bickered good-naturedly about what she was and wasn’t allowed to have as a drink, Becky had to admit to herself that she could get used to this.  

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know we updated a few times in the last week, and that this is actually a few hours early. I would apologize, but I doubt anyone would really complain about it. We still cannot believe it every time we update, how quickly you all respond. The comments, kudos, and hits.... my god. AP and I have been truly, truly blessed with amazing readers. We could not be more humbled with the amount of love you've shown both us and this story. You are all seriously amazing. Thank you for your constant support!
> 
> Here is a link to the song Becky is singing in this chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NuvAZfluKF8&t=116s


	37. Endless Problems - Bayley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Bayley Martinez deals with the fallout of Agent Orton's intimidation of the school and the link she suspects between him and Charlotte Flair. On top of this, a new group needs help.

It took every ounce of self-restraint Bayley had not to fling the radio’s handset down with all her might. She wanted to, desperately, god it would feel good at this moment to do it. But she wouldn’t allow herself to. 

 

Quite apart from not wanting to potentially damage critical equipment, it was a symbolic issue. Bayley was frustrated and annoyed but she would not just jet these feelings out on others. She would not descend to the level of a petty bully throwing a tantrum. She would most definitely not resort to violence of any kind just to make herself feel a little better. That was what made her, and the school, better than so many others right now.

 

That was what made her better than Charlotte Flair.  

 

Bayley’s blood boiled at the mere thought of that stuck up twit. Bayley hadn’t fallen into line when Flair had snapped her fingers so she’d sent this Agent Orton down to the school to bully the people there. What was more Flair was such a coward that she’d waited for Bayley to be away from the school to do it. Orton had walked out with a week’s worth of food and water, all while terrifying the people he’d met.

 

If Bayley ever met him she’d take each and every bite of food and drink of water out of him. And that was nothing on what she’d do to Charlotte Flair if she ever met her. Imagining just exactly what that would be was almost as good a release as throwing something would have been.

 

“So, what happened to Anderson?” Tenille asked from beside Bayley. The Australian woman hadn’t spoken throughout Bayley’s heated exchange with the Commander.

 

“I don’t know the details, all I know is that this new girl is a piece of work,” Bayley grumbled as she marched through the halls to the map room. Despite her anger at the Commander, Bayley was already regretting her outburst. She didn’t want to be like Flair and Tenille had been more than kind to her and the settlement, the other woman had been a godsend.

 

“I’m sorry for barking at you, I really appreciate the help,” Bayley said as she turned and gave the best smile she could manage.

 

Tenille laughed. “Bay, if that’s you barking then we need to give you lessons,” she said with a laugh.

 

“Shut up,” Bayley muttered with a grin as she started walking again. As her anger cooled, Bayley decided to focus on the things that were going well for the settlement. The raid on the Coca-Cola facility was huge for them, but it was just part of a larger trend. Not only that but since Tenille had arrived the whole mood of the settlement had shifted slightly. There was a pervading sense of optimism now, as though they could accomplish anything. 

 

Best of all, it was now March. Another month closer to spring and, hopefully, planting.

 

All in all, it was a much happier Bayley that entered the cafeteria. Technically the school had three set meal times a day, though in leaner times it was more like two or one and a half. Even now, you never got quite as much as you’d like. But there was almost always something. Moreover, because of the nature of Bayley’s work (and that of her team), she couldn’t always count on being around for set meal times. So the kitchen always kept SOMETHING to hand to feed her and the others when they were hungry. Sometimes Bayley felt guilty about this but, there had to be some perks right?

 

Tenille seemed to be thinking along similar lines. “We spend days in the field risking our lives for…” she let her sentence trail off as she looked at the amorphous blob that had been dropped onto a plate for her.

 

Bayley snorted but didn’t say anything beyond thanking the woman who was serving them. As she took her own tray of mush she automatically shot a glance over at the large whiteboard on the wall next to the door. In happier days it had been used to write up the menu for the school day, it was still but in a different way. Today it read:

 

“ _ Wagyu Beef w/ Truffle Sauce and roasted vegetable medley” _

 

This was something of a running joke at the school. Originally someone had written ‘Supreme Pizza’ up on the board as a way of being snippy about the food that was coming out of the kitchen. Bayley wasn’t the biggest fan of it herself, but she acknowledged that there was only so much you could do with the materials the kitchen had to work with.

 

For a while, the school’s head cook, Otis Dozovic, had fought back by simply erasing the notes each time they went up. But as the listed items got more and more complex he’d simply given in and occasionally even added his own fictional offerings. Bayley loved the menu, not because it taunted her with food she might never get to eat again, but because of what it signified. It showed that morale was improving in the school, people felt good enough to joke.

 

“So really…” Tenille said as they both sat down at a table “...What is this stuff?”

 

“I generally don’t ask…” Bayley said as she lifted her spoon and let some of her ‘food’ dribble off of it “...But I’d hazard a guess to say baby food and chopped up lunch meat.” One of the sad realities of the school was that you just couldn’t turn down a source of calories no matter how gross it tasted. Tenille knew this too so she pinched her nose like Bayley did and they both stuck their spoon in their mouths.

 

The best thing that could be said was that Bayley didn’t actually gag.

 

“Oh god…” Tenille said as she took several deep breaths through her nose. They both forced themselves to eat a bit more than half before they pushed their trays away.

 

“Thanks for the delicious food, Otis!” Bayley shouted toward the kitchen. She thought she heard a grunt in response as she took her tray and stood. She’d feel terrible about tossing food, any food, even this slop. But she was on the point of doing that when two of the settlement’s high school boys entered the room clearly on clean up duty.

 

“Lucas! Matthew!...” Bayley called eagerly “...Hey, you guys hungry?” As they were both 16-year-old boys she wasn’t surprised when she got an enthusiastic yes from both of them. “Well, you two can eat the rest of this, tell whoever is supervising you that I gave you a few minutes to do it. Just bus the trays after, okay?” 

 

She and Tenille left the two boys munching away happily. “Guts of iron,” Tenille commented as they emerged into the hallway.

 

“And no taste buds,” Bayley added. As they walked her stomach gave a lurch which made her pause. She took a moment to decide if it was telling her that it was done trying to digest what she’d just eaten or if it was just unsatisfied with it. Turned out it was the second option.

 

“You and me both,” Tenille said with a raised eyebrow. Bayley pursed her lips and thought for a while. She’d been planning to do some more work around the settlement but damn it she wanted some junk food. The more she thought, the more she knew she had to do it.

 

“You know that grocery store that we were planning to hit, the one about two miles from here?” Bayley asked. It was then that she looked and realized where her feet had been taking her. They were standing in the locker room/armory. 

 

“Right you are,” Tenille said as she pushed past Bayley toward where her gear was stored.

 

\----------

 

“OUTBACK! I’ve got two runners heading to the main exit!” Bayley shouted as she plodded toward the manager's office in the back of the store. 

 

Bayley and Tenille had descended on the supermarket like a lightning bolt from on high. The group occupying it weren’t Demons, at least not yet, but more along the lines of generic hoodlums. They had a few guns but nothing to stand up to two Division agents.  Bayley would have been happy to leave them alone had they not taken to raiding. 

 

But their loss would be her gain.

 

“Got’em...Mariachi,” Bayley could hear the smile in Tenille’s voice as the other agent responded. They were following their standard procedure when they worked as a duo. Bayley, in her heavy armor with her LMG, would plunge into the fight. Tenille would work around the outside, taking her opportunities when they presented and batting cleanup. 

 

“I don’t love that code name,” Bayley grunted as she found some concealment behind an empty wooden display bin a few meters from the office door. In other circumstances, Bayley could simply have dropped a seeker mine and sent it into the office ahead of her. But she had no idea what was in there and she didn’t want to risk any collateral damage.

 

“You think I’m gushing about ‘outback’?” Tenille answered. There was a pause before she came back online. “They surrendered to me, they say there are two of them left in the office.”

 

“Copy, and we’re revisiting this discussion later,” Bayley said before she sighed. She knew what she had to do but it was always unpleasant. Activating the sensors built into her helmet’s ballistic mask, Bayley had her ISAC scan the office wall. Nothing but drywall. Taking a few deep breaths, Bayley began jogging as fast as she possibly could while wearing all her armor. But this added mass was very helpful to her.

 

As she smashed straight through the thin wall and into the office. 

 

She squeezed her eyes shut at the point of impact but she checked her moment as quickly as she could on the other side and scanned the room. There were two very startled looking women, both armed with pistols, standing in the opposite corner of the room from Bayley. They’d clearly been aiming at the door, expecting her to pull it open. 

 

Bayley’s shrike was up in a moment, tattooing the woman on the right in her chest with shots that sent her stumbling backward. Her companion, who had admirable reflexes, raised her pistol and fired repeatedly. Bayley felt the hammer blows on her chest and sternum, like someone swinging a heavy mallet into her, but she also knew that they wouldn’t penetrate her armor.     
  


The woman kept shooting until her revolver was empty, and kept pulling the trigger even after this point. Bayley watched for a few moments before she looked the woman in her eye and raised an eyebrow, a gesture her target wouldn’t see behind the ballistic mask. “You done?” she asked.

 

Five minutes later Bayley had cuffed the woman and dropped her into a line with their other three prisoners. Three of them were looking sullen and resentful at their fates, the three Tenille had caught. Bayley’s prisoner was looking terrified. She noticed this, but she wasn’t going to let it distract her from some grandstanding.

 

“Well, well, looks like you lot found out what happens when you take on the Sheriff of these parts and her deputy,” she said as she walked in front of them.

 

“Hang on!” Tenille said, indignantly. When she didn’t continue speaking, Bayley made an impatient gesture at her. “Why am I the deputy?” Tenille asked, sounding miffed.

 

Bayley blinked at her. “Because I was here first?” she suggested.

 

“Really? That’s it?”

 

Bayley huffed at this. “OK, we aren’t doing this in front of the prisoners alright? Just, BE the deputy for now!”

 

“OK...Captain,” Tenille grumbled.

 

“We are NOT doing Captain and Tenille!” Bayley shot back before she pinched the bridge of her nose. She counted to three before turning back to the prisoners, who were looking bemused now. “My name is Agent Martinez of the Division. That’s Agent Dashwood. We’re going to relieve you of your supplies and weapons but what we need to decide is what to do with you.” 

 

“Just shoot us already!” a man at the far end of the line snapped.

 

“Not really our style, that’s for cowards like the Demons or the SHIELD. So let me offer you a choice. We can just let you go on your own, you can see how far you’ll get. Or, if you’re willing to work and want to do some good. You can come back with us to our settlement.”

 

“Bay!” Tenille hissed in shock. But Bayley held up her hand.

 

“There would be restrictions of course, particularly at first. But we’re trying to help and believe in second chances. And looks like you could all use one,” Bayley said as she looked the prisoners in the eye. None of them said anything until the man who had spoken before leaned forward.

 

“FUCK...YOU…” he snarled. Bayley sighed as she held up a hand and stepped back. She took a grip on her shrike before she nodded at Tenille. “Cut them free.” Tenille didn’t argue, but her body language made clear she disagreed with this move. When she’d freed all the prisoners they stood and rubbed at their wrists. 

 

“Come on, let’s go!” the man said as he started stalking away. The man and woman he’d been captured with started to follow, but Bayley’s prisoner stayed put. It took a moment for her companions to realize it but when they did the man rounded on her. “Kiera! Now!” he roared. Kiera, which was apparently the blonde’s name, didn’t move. She did begin shaking, however.

 

“Are you fucking deaf you little bitch!” the woman who had been about to leave demanded as she moved to stand next to the angry man.

 

“I...I want to stay...with them…” Kiera muttered at her feet.

 

“Why you little skank!” the angry woman, who was quite a bit taller than Cameron, shouted. “You little traitor! I’m going to-” whatever she’d been planning to do it had undoubtedly been violent given the look in her eyes and the way her fingers were hooked like claws. But before she could take more than a few steps, Tenille stepped forward and buried the butt of her rifle in the woman’s stomach and then swung it upward in an uppercut that sent her sprawling. 

 

“If you’re leaving, leave!” Bayley commanded. The others looked like they desperately wanted to argue but they were unarmed and both Bayley and Tenille had just made short work of the rest of their gang. They left with some harsh words, but nothing more. Knowing Tenille would keep an eye on them Bayley turned to Kiera. “Do you actually want to come with us? Or did you just want to be free from them?”

 

Kiera nodded, but then realized this wouldn’t be helpful. “I’d like to come with you…” she muttered, staring down at her feet. It wasn't surprising she felt awkward, it hadn’t been that long ago that she’d unloaded a revolver into Bayley’s chest. About fifteen minutes later a truck from the school arrived along with a car full of some of Bayley’s team. They took custody of Kiera and then helped out with the loading of the truck. For their part, Bayley and Tenille were lounging on a bench outside the store each with a bag of chips.

 

“This is much better,” Bayley said happily.

 

“Amen.” 

 

They munched and chatted happily until the truck was ready to leave. They then sent it on its way and told the crew they’d make their own way back. This was mostly a pretext to see if they could scrounge up some more junk food for their own consumption but they figured they’d earned it. Ducking back into the store they were wandering the aisles when they heard a rustling and then a crash from inside the store. Instantly, both agents dropped in the crouches and listened. 

 

A voice swore a few aisles away before the rustling resumed. Bayley and Tenille had a quick and totally silent conversation in hand signals. During this, it was decided that Tenille would go left and Bayley right, they would try to pincer whoever was nearby in the aisle. And the plan worked, perfectly. Both women spun out of cover and into the mouths of the aisle at the same time with their weapons up. 

 

Leveled at a single man with buzzed blonde hair going to grey who was crouched in the aisle, having clearly been trying to stuff food into a sack he had with him.

 

“Don’t move!” Bayley commanded. The man froze, and slowly raised his hands.

 

“I didn’t mean to startle anyone, I’m sorry. But...we need your help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooooo 3,251 hits at publishing...you guys...what did we do here? When I pitched this story to LL I really thought we might get a few loyal readers but I couldn't imagine this kind of response. That's all thanks to you guys so, sincerely, we greatly appreciate it.
> 
> Before I get to my usual asks, I have a fic recommendation for you. "All Gone" is a post-zombie apocalypse fic staring Zelina Vega and Andrade written by my good friend BingoHallOwner. It's new, but I love it so far and I highly recommend you all head on over there. It's a quick read but I think it will hook you. Find it with the link below:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/21467041
> 
> Now, those asks. It would mean so much to myself and LL if you would take the time to leave us a kudo or, even better, a comment. Your feedback really helps us in our writing. I know everyone says that and it sounds thirst as hell, but it's true. We loving interacting with you guys as well! Don't forget to bookmark so you never miss and update! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	38. You're Not What I Expected - Charlotte and Bayley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte finally gets a face to face with the ever-elusive Agent Martinez. And Bayley finally gets to meet the Wicked Witch of the West. It's not the meeting either one was expecting.

Charlotte sighed as she pushed herself out of her cot.   It was way too early for her to be awake, especially since she was still technically considered unfit for duty for another two days.  But being up this early insured that she could slip out of headquarters without Xia or Evans noticing.  

 

Somewhere along the way, those two had appointed themselves her guard dogs and would run to Dr. Scot the second that Charlotte refused to play by the rules set forth by the other woman.  She understood that they were only doing what they thought was right. But for fuck sake, Charlotte was an adult and should be allowed to handle her life as she saw fit. And right now, what she needed to do was pack a quick bag and head south to the school, without anyone else tagging along.  

 

They didn’t trust her or the JTF, that much was obvious.  And Charlotte was more than content to let that connection and possibility of being allies fall to the wayside.  But then Orton had shown up and rubbed his grubby little paws all over everything, seriously fucking over any chance that Charlotte had at playing some level of ball with the settlement at least… especially since he had used  _ her _ command codes to get through the gate.   _ That _ was something she had addressed immediately, changing them so that way she was the only one to have them.  She hadn’t written them down anywhere and had immediately put Owens on creating a stronger wall around their server to prevent hackers from getting in.

 

Now she needed to grab her gear and sneak out of headquarters without anyone noticing, a feat she was sure she wouldn’t be able to accomplish if she hadn’t been a SERE operator in the Air Force.  She knew that this was a massive risk, traveling more than half the city to go see a settlement that would most likely shoot her on-site if Agent Martinez was to be believed. But it was a risk she  _ had  _ to take since that hard-headed, naive Agent had decided to throw a temper tantrum instead of listening to her on the radio the previous night.  So now she had to go down there in person to explain that Orton was, under no circumstances to be trusted. And the only way she could think of getting their attention long enough to explain this was to do this by herself.  An armed contingent would absolutely send them in the other direction, so while it was a stupidly desperate move, it was the only one she had. She wasn’t going to leave them out there without the information she could provide, no matter what Agent Martinez seemed to think of her.

 

She sighed as she hefted her pack and slunk through the subway tunnels.  She had never been a fan of being trapped underground where she couldn’t see the sky.  If she had ever stopped long enough to talk to a therapist, they would probably tell her she had minor claustrophobia, but she never had that kind of time.  Plus ignorance is bliss and all of that.

 

Charlotte kept her gaze focused forward and moved quickly and quietly until she made it outside the tunnel she had been aiming for.  This particular subway tunnel had been blocked off to anyone except Agents. Whoever had made that adjustment early on was brilliant, especially since they had made the subway station a few stops down the operational headquarters for the JTF.  

 

She scanned her node and quickly made her way to the street, where she doubled her pace.  The school settlement was a pretty good distance, and the longer she was out on the street, the more vulnerable she was.  Not to mention this was prime Demon hunting time, meaning they would be out in full force, which could only make her trip that much more eventful if she wasn’t careful.  

  
  


____________

  
  


The trip took a few hours on foot for Charlotte.  She had been forced to stop and put down a few groups of Demons, and even a SHIELD outpost.  She was tired and sore. Not to mention more than a little annoyed that she had to make this trip at all.  She sighed when she finally saw what she assumed was the school settlement looming in the distance.  

 

The fortifications were obviously done by amateurs initially, but it looked like someone with some training was making the proper adjustments.  She stopped a good fifteen to twenty feet from the entrance, her hands up and her rifle slung across her back. She started to approach the gate slowly and cautiously. 

 

“Stop!” came the shout from atop the gate. Two men appeared from behind improvised barriers, each armed with a rifle.

 

Charlotte nodded, immediately stopping where she was standing.  She raised her hands a little higher so they could see that she wasn’t planning on doing anything suspicious or violent. 

 

“What do you want?” 

 

Charlotte watched them closely.  “I need to speak to Agent Martinez.”

 

The two men exchanged a glance with each other before holding a whispered consultation. When they finished one of them turned and hurried out of sight. “Who are you?” the remaining man asked.

 

 “I’m Commander Flair of the JTF and Chicago Division Agents,” Charlotte called out to the guard still standing on the wall. 

 

That drew an immediate reaction. The man’s rifle twitched as he stamped his foot several times. This was obviously a signal because several more guards appeared, all armed and all glaring down at Charlotte. A small group formed for another whispered conversation before another guard spoke. “Why do you want to speak with Agent Martinez?” 

 

Charlotte nodded at their reaction.  It was exactly what she had been expecting.  “I have information for her that is extremely important, vital even.  But I can’t reach her on the radio, and I know that she has no intention of answering when I call.  Which I accept… except when it comes to this matter. Please, it could be life or death.”

 

“Why should we trust you?” the obvious question was asked.

 

“I know you think you can’t, and after what happened a few days ago I don’t blame you.  There’s nothing I can say to make you believe me either,” she keeps her right hand raised and slowly takes her rifle off of her back and lays it down on the street.  She slowly sinks to her knees, both hands back in the air. “Normally I would leave well enough alone, but after Orton made a move with my command codes, I couldn’t sit by without trying to warn you.  He’s not one of mine, and I didn’t send him.”   


  
She reaches, slowly again with her right hand, to a pocket in her jacket.  She pulled out a flash drive. “If you don’t want me talking to her, or she doesn’t want to see me, I will leave this here and walk away.  It has the intel she needs on him in case he comes back. But I think this is something she is going to want to hear for herself.”

 

Before anyone on the wall can answer, there is a commotion from behind. A moment later a tall man with grey shoulder-length hair appears on the wall to look down at Charlotte. His expression is stern and he seems to radiate a calm authority.  Clearly not a man to trifle with.

 

“My name is Bret Hart, I am one of the people who helps run this place. Before this little talk goes any further we’ll need some proof that you are who you say you are.”

 

 Charlotte nods, “of course.  What kind of proof do you need Mr. Hart?”

 

Hart nodded to the side to someone standing behind a screen of plywood. An improvised boom and pulley were suddenly swung out and over the wall, a rope was lowered with a basket at the end of it. “Agent Martinez provided us with a device for charging Division nodes, it seems it also works to identify the node’s owner. If you want to talk, place yours in the basket and we’ll verify who you are.” Hart’s tone made clear this was not up for negotiation.

 

Charlotte slowly got to her feet and walked over to the basket.  She didn’t hesitate to place her node inside of it. She walked back to the middle of the street and got back on her knees, her hands now resting comfortably behind her head.

 

There was a delay of several minutes as the node vanished behind the wall. When Hart eventually reappeared his expression hadn’t changed. “Your node confirms who you are, and Agent Martinez has convinced us that they are nearly impossible to hack. However, the last time someone from the Division showed up he robbed us. And he did so using command codes under your name on one of these same unhackable nodes. Tell me, Commander, would you let yourself in under these circumstances?”

 

She hesitated, wondering how best to answer this.  “No. I wouldn’t, and I understand your refusal to do so.  I am sorry for what Orton did, please relay that he’s a rogue Agent and not to be trusted to Agent Martinez.  Everything she needs to verify that is on this flash drive.” 

  
  
She placed the flash drive on the ground and slowly got to her feet.  She kept her gait even and her hands visible until she got back to her rifle.  She bent down to pick it up and looked up the street to start her walk back to the JTF headquarters.

 

“I think you understand the problem, don’t you?” Hart called to her.

 

Charlotte paused and turned around.  “Of course I understand the problem, Mr. Hart.  A rogue Agent showed up here using my command codes to gain access to your settlement to steal food and supplies.  And now here I am, the leader of an organization you don’t trust, an organization he was supposed to represent, claiming that I had nothing to do with it.  Of course, you wouldn’t trust me. In fact, I’m quite surprised you haven’t shot me yet.”

  
  
She walks back towards the gate, so she doesn’t have to yell quite as far.  “I’m not asking you to trust the JTF or me. All I'm asking for is a few minutes with Agent Martinez to give her the information that I have on Orton and his groupies.  I’m not looking to make friends down here, or become allies. You and your people have made your stance on that crystal clear. But I have a duty to the people of this city as the Commander of the JTF to help in any way that I can.  And right now, that means I need to relay the information that is on this flash drive to someone who knows what to do with it. He wasn’t the only rogue Agent, Mr. Hart. And forgive me for saying so, but I believe your settlement would be remiss if they didn’t at least hear me out.  Five minutes is all I’m asking for, and then I will leave you be.”

 

Hart surprised his companions by chuckling, the sound seemed odd given the tension in the air. “Well, I suppose arrogance is to be expected. The problem, Commander, is that what you are telling me is the same thing you would be telling me if you HAD sent Agent Orton. That being said, Agent Martinez has demonstrated to us that she is beyond trustworthy and security matters are hers to deal with. If you’re willing to submit to some precautions we’ll let you wait for her. It’s too cold to be standing outside.”

 

Charlotte tried to hide her look of surprise.  “If it would make everyone more comfortable, I am willing to wait out here.  The last thing I want is to make things worse than I already have,” she said to him as she walked over and sat down on the curb.

 

Hart shook his head at this suggestion. “Sitting in front of the gate you’re a tempting target. I have no doubt you can look after yourself, but we won’t risk drawing attention. If you will surrender your weapons and other gear we will store them here and provide you with a place to wait.”

 

Charlotte nodded.  “Of course. If that’s the stipulation, then I’m willing to comply,” she called up to him as she placed her rifle on the ground.

 

When Charlotte had disarmed herself, the gates creaked open and several armed people came out. They surrounded her and took her gear, which vanished inside. Then, to Charlotte’s surprise, one of them handed her a small piece of paper. “Keep this.”

 

Charlotte nodded as she accepted the piece of paper and placed it in a coat pocket.  She then bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying anything when one of them held out a pair of handcuffs.  She silently extended her arms and let them put the cuffs on. Charlotte couldn’t hide the wince, however, when they tightened the cuffs more than necessary.  

 

“Agent Martinez will be back sometime this afternoon,” a woman said before a blindfold was suddenly looped over Charlotte’s eyes. With that, she felt strong hands take her arms and begin to lead her along the outside of the wall. The walk took several minutes for Charlotte, but eventually, she heard a door being unlocked in front of her.

 

“Bret says you can come inside the school until Agent Martinez is done with this one, meet him at the gate,” one of her guards said.

 

“OK, thank you,” a woman’s voice answered. Charlotte heard footsteps and then felt someone squeeze past her. Then she was chivied inside, she heard another door and felt the change in air pressure that meant she was being led into a smaller room. There she was pushed down into a chair and told to wait. She heard the door close again followed by no fewer than six locks and bars on the outside.

 

Charlotte shifted so she was more comfortable.  She felt like this was a little overkill, but if this is what got her face to face with Martinez, she was willing to put up with it.

 

\----------

 

Bayley was feeling thoroughly drained both physically and emotionally. She and Tenille had just met with a small group of scavengers who had asked for their help. 

 

They’d been lead to the small group by the man they’d encountered in the supermarket. They’d been naturally suspicious of him and his words but had mutually decided that they couldn’t risk the plea being genuine. It had been, they’d been lead to a house where they’d found a group of seven adults all of whom looked very emaciated.

 

It turned out that the group had come all the way from Grundy county. This was one of the ring of rural counties around Chicago. Bayley was feeling extremely guilty for never considering the plight that country dwellers might be in as a result of the green poison. It seemed that they hadn’t done any better than the suburbs. 

 

In the early weeks of the crisis, the counties had been working smoothly with the state and city governments. But when the decision had been made by the governor to prioritize the cities and to shift all law enforcement resources into them, it had meant ALL resources. The Sheriffs and small-town departments had found most of their personnel and any equipment they had transferred into the city. Occasionally leaving all law and order in a county in the hands of one person. 

 

“It’s...bad…” the man they’d met at the supermarket, whose name was Jim, had explained. “Some areas, the ones with good Sheriffs, are trying to keep going. But others? They’re being run like little kingdoms.” He’d gone on to tell a tale of marauding bands and citizens being left to fend for themselves.

 

“We’re running out of food,” one of his companions had said desperately. She, Jim, and the others had been sent into the city in hopes of finding food to bring back and, hopefully, some help. Bayley’s heart had broken at the idea of what they were going through and had promised to speak to the school about their plight. She wasn’t sure what her home could do, but she knew they would want to help.

 

Tenille had been oddly silent since they’d left the scavengers. Bayley supposed she was just trying to process what she’d heard. But Bayley wasn’t feeling talkative either, so she didn’t mind Tenille’s silence. When they did eventually reach the school she was surprised to be met at the doors by Darren Young.

 

“Mr. Roode and Mr. Hart want to see you right away,” he said without any sort of preamble.

 

“Is something wrong?” Bayley asked, alarmed.

 

“We don’t know, but I’m supposed to send you to them right away.” Bayley nodded and set off. A few minutes later she was feeling an odd mixture of befuddlement and annoyance as she stared at Hart and Roode.

 

“She came here?” Bayley asked, for the third time. Both men nodded. Bayley turned to Tenille quickly. “Will you go out there and make sure she’s actually still there.” The Australian woman nodded and left the room.

 

“We secured her in the cell, she’s handcuffed,” Hart put in.

 

Rather than try to disabuse him of this comfortable notion, Bayley pressed on. “What do you want me to do?” she asked.

 

Bobby shrugged. “Whatever you like? We figure this is a Division matter so as long as it doesn’t affect us we won’t interfere.”

 

“And if it does end up affecting the school?” Bayley asked.

 

“Then we’ll deliberate. But we can’t know until you go talk to her.”

 

Bayley bit her lip. She wasn’t sure that it was a good idea at the moment. Even thinking about Charlotte Flair was enough to annoy her. She’d never thought it was possible for someone to cram that much condescending sanctimony into one body, but somehow Flair had done it. Bayley’s mood was not improved by the conversation she’d had with the survivors. The JTF would have been the organization that absorbed all the resources stripped from the rural counties. 

 

“Give me a bit,” was all she said as she followed Tenille out the door.

 

\----------

 

The door to Charlotte’s cell was opened again and several pairs of feet entered. A moment later, Charlotte’s blindfold was removed. Martinez wasn’t present but two of the guards from the gate were flanking a short woman with long dark hair. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of aviator glasses and she was wearing tactical gear under her coat. Most noticeably she also had a Division watch on her wrist.

 

Charlotte raised an eyebrow.  “Well you’re not Agent Martinez, but it’s good to see another Agent still out here working.  Agent Dashwood,” she acknowledged the other woman with a slight tilt of her head.

 

The brunette smiled knowingly in response. “I don’t much fancy the ponytail myself, but I must say that the Division commander certainly looks different from the last time I checked.”

 

Charlotte nodded.  “I know. I’m assuming you heard about the meeting of the factions at Velveteen Bliss that ended in an explosion?  He was a casualty in that incident, and the role of the Joint Commander fell into my lap. I had assumed the information had been disseminated.”

 

“I heard, though I’ve been a bit busy to keep up on gossip, work gets hard without the kind of support we were promised,” the brunette answered delicately.

 

Charlotte winced a little at that one.  “I know apologizing won’t do much, but I am sorry.  I honestly had no idea that he hadn’t sent any support this far south.  Turns out he kept me out of the loop on a lot of things.”  

 

“What’s done is done, we’ve all picked our sides,” the Aussie answered as she eased herself against the wall and folded her arms.

 

“I understand,” Charlotte answered with a nod.  She decided not to push the issue seeing as this was one of the few Agents who hadn’t immediately met her with animosity, so she settled back in the chair and stayed silent.

 

The silence stretched for almost ten minutes before the shed’s outer doors opened. A moment later there was a knock on the inner door which a guard opened. In stepped Agent Bayley Martinez carrying a tray of food. Bayley scanned the woman in front of her, somehow her appearance didn’t seem to match the image she’d built up in her head. For whatever reason, she found this disappointing.

 

“You’re a long way from home,” Bayley said as she sat and put the tray on the table.

 

“That I am,” Charlotte responded as she studied the other woman.  She had seen the picture of Martinez that was in her file. But somehow this person standing in front of here didn’t match the voice that was constantly yelling at her over the radio.

 

“I believe this is bologna stroganoff, or that’s what they are calling it. There’s no point in pretending you aren’t hungry it’s written all over your face,” Bayley said as she pushed the tray toward Flair. She then added a school lunch style milk carton beside it.

 

Charlotte paused as she looked from the tray to Martinez and then back to the tray.  “I… I appreciate the offer, Agent but I couldn’t accept this. Besides, I figure the longer I’m here, the more uncomfortable everyone is.  So the sooner I’m on my way back North, the happier everyone will be.”

 

Bayley raised an eyebrow. “AND your hands are still cuffed?”

 

Charlotte paused again, sighed and then looked a little sheepish.  She gently raised her left wrist that had the handcuff hanging loosely from it.  Her right hand, however, was free. “Sorry. Habit.”

 

Both guards moved but Bayley held up a hand. “Commander Flair clearly isn’t here to hurt anyone, I suspect she’d been free of her cuffs since shortly after you put them on. Don’t worry, I’ll show you all what to look for next time we train.” She then raised an eyebrow at Charlotte. “The knife in your boot will be useful for cutting the noodles I’m sure.”

 

Charlotte extended her right boot.  “They can remove it if you prefer. But you are correct, I am not here to hurt anyone.”

 

“So the knife just slipped your mind then did it?” Tenille put in.

 

“Ah, no.  It did not,” Charlotte answered as she shook her head.  “I know what the people here think of me, and while I have no intention of harming anyone, I felt it prudent to keep some form of a tool on me.  Though, I wouldn’t have made it very far, considering how outnumbered I am. Again, they are more than welcome to take it.”

 

Bayley snorted. “Not much point now is there? Also, you can spit out whatever you are trying so hard to cheek. It can’t be easy to speak around that much spit.”

 

Charlotte cocked an eyebrow and then leaned forward to spit a razor blade into her hand.  “Good catch. That one usually slips past everyone.”

 

Bayley turned to the two guards then and gave them a nod. “You two did good, I wouldn’t expect you to have caught any of those things yet.”

 

“We’re sorry, agent,” one of the men said, sounding as though he truly regretted disappointing Bayley. In response, she held out the tray to them.

 

“This is off my ration ticket so you two go to town, Agent Dashwood and I will be fine here. I’ll check in with Bobby when we’re done here,” Bayley assured them. They seemed reluctant to leave but eventually, they did, taking the tray with them.

 

“You can’t keep giving your meals away like that,” Tenille chided her gently.

 

“We’re low on supplies, you know that. Especially since our visitor...know anything about that? Commander?” Bayley asked flatly.

 

Charlotte sighed.  “Unfortunately yes, but not in the way you’re thinking.  I have no idea how he got ahold of my command codes, but he’s definitely not one of mine.”   
  


She watches the other two Agents for a few seconds.  “I’m assuming you’ve heard of the Administration. Bruno Sammartino fancies himself the savior of this city.  And in his push to take complete control of the area, he has built his own “Division” full of at least four rogue Agents as far as I can tell.  Orton is one of them. He has no affiliation with me or the JTF.”

 

“Which, is exactly what you’d say if you HAD sent him and simply didn’t want to admit it. I don’t think your credit around here is good enough for anyone to trust a denial. But you came down here for a reason, mind telling us?”

 

“We’d been doing so well communicating over the radio, I figured I would flip the script a little,” Charlotte answered sarcastically.  

 

She paused for a moment and then exhaled loudly.  “Look, I know that you’re not going to believe a word I say, that much has been made clear.  And I understand why. But Orton, he is the worst of the worst, and I felt like… I don’t know… that maybe coming down here and meeting you on your turf would maybe convince you that I was telling the truth about him.  He’s not to be messed with, and if I were you, I would hold true to that threat you made on the radio. If he shows up here again, shoot him first and ask questions never.”

 

“I intend to…” Bayley allowed “...As to how dangerous he is, I’m not too worried. He’s got a jarhead tattoo on his arm. None of uncle sam’s misguided children is getting one over on me. But the thing is, Commander, it doesn’t matter who he does or doesn’t work for now, does it? The damage is done. I shouldn’t have called you just to vent my spleen, and for that, I apologize. At the very least you’re so committed to your story that you made the solo trip down here. That was beyond dumb, but it was gutsy. So I have to ask, what do you expect to happen here?”

 

Charlotte shrugged noncommittally.  “Exactly this. You called me out in our first conversation, and you were right.  I wasn’t thinking about the people that live here, and for that, I apologize. I made that mistake once, and I don’t intend to make it again.”

 

She looks up at Tenille briefly before looking back at Bayley.  “I know now that a lot of the support that was promised to the people in the south was not delivered upon.  That was Anderson’s legacy, and I…” she stops and smiles in a self-deprecating way. “... as naive as this sounds, I took an oath as an Agent and I intend to uphold it.  I intend to protect the people of this city in the best way that I can, and while I had once hoped your settlement and the JTF could come to an agreement, it’s obvious the damage has already been done and is beyond repair.  So at the very least, I could provide the intel that I do have on the Agents I know to be rogue. It’s all on the flash drive your guards took off of me earlier.”

 

Bayley hesitated. “I...believe you are sincere. Unfortunately, as a practical matter, it doesn’t change anything. Words don’t mean much against actions. These people, this whole area, got shit on by every authority there was. And most of those promised they would help. So like I said, your credit isn’t good down here. So I think you’re right in that it’s best if we simply respect each other’s yard. City center and inward is all yours, outside that the people just want to be left alone. Maybe that means they fail, but I haven’t met anyone outside of downtown that is going to risk trusting the JTF again.”

 

“I understand,” Charlotte answered as she nodded.  “And I respect that. But it would be negligent of me not to extend an open offer if they should choose to change their mind.  I mean it, the offer of JTF assistance stands to anyone who asks for it, though I know you probably won’t seek it out and I can’t say that I blame you.”

 

“That being said, I believe I have overstayed my welcome.  I assume you’ll want to put the cuffs and blindfold back on while I’m escorted to the gate?”

 

Bayley raises an eyebrow. “Do you have a deathwish?”

 

Charlotte’s face contorts into a look of confusion.  “I’m sorry?”

 

“I assume it was you that was handing out bloody noses to the Demons left and right in a line from here to downtown?”

 

Charlotte shrugs.  “They got in my way, and I needed to get down here.”

 

“I don’t doubt it, but as you probably aren’t aware, they’ve set a bunch of fires and are on the warpath. Thanks for that, by the way. No one should be walking through the city alone tonight.”

 

Charlotte hesitates.  “That… that was not my intention.  But since I made the mess, it is only fair that I go clean it up.  So those handcuffs?”

 

Bayley looked incredulous. “Did you not just hear me? You have what is probably several hundred raging psychopaths between you and your HQ. We may not be friends but I don’t wish death on anyone, so you can stay here tonight.”

 

Charlotte looked a little sheepish.  “I appreciate the offer, but um… unless you want a contingent of JTF members knocking on your door, it’s best if I head back tonight.”

 

Bayley narrowed her eyes. “Are we threatening now?”

 

Charlotte’s eyes widen and she raises her hands in a placating manner.  “No! That’s not what I meant at all! I’m sorry, I should have explained it better.  They uh… they don’t know that I’m here. And even though I turned my node off, it would only be a matter of time before they figured out how to turn it back on remotely and trace it to me here.  So that’s why I should head back tonight. Besides, if I make enough noise on my way back north, I can get those Demons to follow me away from here.”  

 

“She may actually have a death wish” Tenille snorted.

 

“I figured showing up here with a group of armed people you don’t trust would have been a terrible move.  One that would have been perceived as a threat and rightfully so.” Charlotte shrugged. “I can handle a trip out of Headquarters.”

 

Bayley studied her quietly for a long time before she took her radio off her harness. She slid it across the table toward Charlotte before clearing her throat. “If you would please inform your people of your decision so we aren’t blamed if you get killed.”

 

Charlotte sighed and picked up the radio.  “It’s probably going to get a little loud in here.”

 

She switched the radio to the proper frequency and keyed up the mic.  “Lieutenant Flair to Officer Vega.”   
  


_ “Where the **fuck** have you been?”  _

 

Charlotte cleared her throat and responded as calmly as possible.  “Look, you all can’t have your cake and eat it too. You made me sign that stupid paper, but you want to keep me on a twenty-four-hour watch?  It doesn’t work like that.”

 

There was a tension-filled silence from the other end before Zelina responded.  _“One moment please.”_   
  


Charlotte sighed and shot an apologetic look at the other two Agents in the room.  “This is where the arguing is about to begin.” 

 

_“Commander Flair, I see you’ve been rather liberal in your interpretation of ‘R &R’”_ the voice of Dr. Scot said through the radio.

 

“If I remember correctly Dr. Scot, the only stipulation on my R&R was the amount of time you’re forcing me to take off.  There was no constraint on where or how I spend my time,” Charlotte answered, her eyes focused on the radio in her hand.

 

“ _Sophistry? Really, Commander?_ ” Dr. Scot answered in a tone made clear that Charlotte’s argument had not impressed her.

 

“Is it sophistry though?  I’m following the rules you and Dr. Bevis and Dr. Sane imposed on me as we agreed.  And I didn’t call you to argue the semantics of that agreement. I was just calling to let you know that I’m safe and will be back later tonight.”  Charlotte shook her head as she finished her argument.

 

“ _Sophistry to justify sophistry? And legalistic sophistry at that? I can’t say I’m not disappointed, Commander,”_ came the simple response.

 

Charlotte closes her eyes and takes a steadying breath to try and hide just how much that one stung.  “I am also not alone during this conversation, so can we discuss this once I get back to Headquarters?”

 

_ “Oh, I think we will need to...at great length. I’m handing the radio to acting Commander Kingston.” _

 

Charlotte rolled her eyes as a new voice came over the radio.  _“I’m assuming you’re safe since no one has set off an alarm yet?”_

  
  
“Yes, Commander Kingston.  I’m fine, you all worry a little too much. It’s almost like you’ve forgotten that I was an Agent before being handed the joint commander position.”   
  


“ _And you, Charlotte, seem to have forgotten that you’re the_ _**joint commander** of both the JTF and the Chicago Division Agents.  I know that we forced you out of the leadership position for your own good because you weren’t eating or sleeping.  But this is a whole new level of stupidity… even for you.” _   
  


“Kofi,” Charlotte sighed once he was done.  “I’m fine and I’ll be back in a few hours. Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal.  You probably didn’t even notice I was gone until I called you.”   
  


There was a long silence from the radio.  “ _If you think_ _that is the case, then you have another thing coming.  Xia had us frantically searching for you once she realized you weren’t in your bunk when she brought you your required hot meal.”_

 

Charlotte winced, “okay, maybe I should have left a note or something.  But bringing an armed guard down here would have been catastrophic. I needed to do it alone, just like I’m going to be leaving here alone in a few minutes,” this she said directly to Bayley.

 

_“Oh no you don’t,_ ” he was quick to reply.  “ _You are going to wait right there until we get an escort down to you.”_

__   
  
“No.  Absolutely not, Kingston.  I’m serious when I say that an armed guard will only make matters worse and quite possibly start a war between the JTF and the school.  I’ll tell you what, I will agree to meet an escort at… West 41st and South Polaski Road?” She looked at Bayley again for confirmation that that would be far enough away.  

When Bayley nodded her approval, Charlotte confirmed that.  “Yeah, let’s go with 41st and South Polaski.”

 

There was another long pause from Kingston.  “ _Fine, 41st and Polaski. Don’t be late, and don’t even think about ditching us.  We’ll be there in two hours._ ”   
  


The radio clicked off before Charlotte could confirm any of that.  She shrugged as she pushed the radio back towards Bayley. “Yeah, so that was… a thing.  Sorry you had to hear all of that.”

 

Bayley just deposited the radio back on her harness without answering. She nodded at Tenille who opened the door to the cell. “Just leave the blindfold and cuffs here. I need to go tell Kiera that she gets her room back.” She stood then and made for the door before turning back to Charlotte. “Don’t die out there.”

 

Charlotte raised an eyebrow.  “I don’t plan on it.”

 

Charlotte then stood from the chair once Bayley had left the cell and followed Tenille as she led her back to the front gate of the school.  Charlotte did her best to keep her eyes focused on the ground directly in front of her so she didn’t appear to be casing even the inner defenses of the settlement.  She waited at the gate after handing the guard the receipt she had gotten when she first entered. Once the guard returned with her pack, rifle, and sidearm, Charlotte walked outside the outer wall and slid her pack on her back.  She kept her rifle slung over her shoulder and her hand off of her pistol as she started her walk back North.

  
  


______________

  
  


Charlotte took a quick break at the end of a block, her eyes scanning the area in front of her the best that they could.  Without the use of her Node, Charlotte didn’t have her usual night vision tech that had been integrated into her HUD, and she had forgotten to grab a pair of NVG’s before she left.  She sighed as she adjusted her rifle and cut through the building she stopped in front of. 

 

It was taking Charlotte twice as long as her trip down South had been.  A lot of that had to do with the fact that she was making her trip back North at night, and that she had pissed off a bunch of Demons who were still out searching for her.   So she had been forced to take out a few of them in order to continue her movement.

 

It also didn’t help that she had told Kofi to meet her in the middle of the most direct route back to headquarters.  That had been a tactical necessity though. He would have caught on to her intent to ditch them the second she gave a location that was anything other than the most direct route.  So she was forced to go a few blocks out of her way to avoid running into the very angry JTF escort that was waiting for her.  

 

It had been a little over an hour since she left the school and she wasn’t even close to halfway there.  She sighed silently again, slightly regretting her decision to do it this way. But it had been the only way she could see that didn’t end in massive amounts of bloodshed.

 

Charlotte paused at the entrance to the building she was in.  She needed to cross the street to the next building that had a fire escape that connected it to the one next to it.  Just as she was about to make her move, she felt a pair of eyes staring into the back of her head.  

 

She hesitated.  She might have been making the whole thing up.  But she was in Demon territory, so it was better to be safe than sorry.  Finding a building that would match her needs, Charlotte made sure to make as much noise as she could as she made her way inside the building.

 

She turned at the entrance and set up a situation that would catch any Demons following her in a crossfire situation right in the middle of a fatal funnel.  Just to make sure they would follow her inside, she turned on her flashlight and rolled it out into the middle of the room.  

 

Charlotte waited for about ten minutes, and when no one entered the building, she grabbed her flashlight and turned it off.  She then continued further into the building and out the back door.  

 

She continued to move this way until she was about an hour away from headquarters.  The feeling of being watched had stayed with her for most of the trip, but every time she stopped to try and catch them either in a trap or by using counter-surveillance, they managed to stay hidden.  So it could very possibly be her imagination and paranoia taking hold. Or she was being followed by someone who definitely wasn’t a Demon. Which was seeming more and more likely the longer she was out in the open.

 

She had given this person plenty of opportunities to attack her, and yet they haven’t.  And that was something that was speaking volumes to Charlotte. She made her way to another building and started to hear some footsteps as this person seemed to relax more the closer they got to the JTF. 

 

Charlotte let her tail follow her for another half an hour until she was about a mile from headquarters.   She sighed as she stopped in the shadow of an abandoned building, her back to a wall as she squinted into the darkness.  “You can come out now. You proved your point.”

 

“How fresh are you from SERE?” Bayley asked as she stepped out of the shadows.

 

Charlotte sighed.  “Seriously? What are you doing here?”

 

“You’re welcome for me taking the time to make sure you got back in one piece,” Bayley countered casually as she rested her shrike casually across her shoulders.

 

“I appreciate the gesture, but answer me this… how is you making a trip by yourself any different than me making one?” Charlotte asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

“I’m spec-ops, being horribly outnumbered and surrounded is kind of our thing,” Bayley shrugged. She nodded in the direction of the JTF HQ. “Can you make it from here?”

 

“Can I…?  Can I make it from here?”  Charlotte asked with raised eyebrows.  “I understand you spec-op types think you’re the best of the best, but it was always my guys who came to rescue you when things got rough.  So yeah, I think I can manage. I would have been fine on my own from the school, but thanks… I guess.”  

 

Bayley just smiled knowingly at the remark. “Well, …we are. Also, atta girl,” she said as she turned to walk away.

 

Charlotte considered just letting Bayley have the last word, considered letting her walk away into the night and hopefully make it back to the school in one piece.  And normally Charlotte would have been okay with that, except she had been putting up with this type of self-righteous bullshit all day and she’d had enough. So instead of biting her tongue, she spoke up to the retreating back of Agent Martinez.

 

“Watch your step out here.  There’s a sniper that’s been shooting Agents for the hell of it.  Haven’t been able to figure out if the Agents being killed are rogue or not, but they have been pushing further South.  Call themselves the Ghost. Just thought you should know… you know since you fancy yourself a ninja who can make it back to the school in one piece.”

 

Bayley held up a thumbs-up gesture as she walked away. “Thanks for the heads up killer.”

 

Charlotte glared at the woman as she walked away.  She had no idea what it was about Agent Martinez that got under her skin so easily, there was just something about the other woman that Charlotte could not put her finger on.  “Head on a swivel, Rook!”

 

Bayley waved as she cupped a hand behind her ear before vanishing into a building.

 

Charlotte watched her go with narrowed eyes.  After the day she had interacting with the people at the school, she was exhausted and starving.  She wanted to run after Agent Martinez and get the last word in, but she just didn’t have the energy at that moment.  Plus she knew that there would be a few rather irate individuals who would want to give her a piece of their mind as soon as she walked through the gates.

 

So she would have to settle on letting Martinez go for now and hope that she makes it back to her settlement in one piece.  It was true that they had agreed to keep to their own sandboxes and not cross paths again, but there was something that was telling Charlotte this wouldn’t be the last time she dealt with the light machine gunner.

 

Charlotte sighed, her mind suddenly too tired to think any more.  She turned and made her way the final mile towards the JTF for some much-needed rest.  

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, two more of the horsewomen meet! Was it everything you hoped it be? We know we've been dragging out all four of them meeting and working together, but we promise that it is coming. You all have been so amazing with the comments, kudos, and bookmarks! Especially with how slow burn we're making this. When I started writing this story with AP, I was so nervous because I was relatively new to the WWE fandom, and basically brand new to the 4HW fandom. You all blew my nerves out of the water with how welcoming you have been to not only me but this story as well. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart. We couldn't ask for better readers. You all are the true MVPs.


	39. Yes, Ma’am - Charlotte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte lands in hot water after her trip South and then makes another trip that could have disaster out consequences.

Charlotte groaned, pulled her pillow over her head as she rolled over.  “Go away,” she yelled towards the door.

 

“The briefing room, five minutes.  We will not accept an excuse,” the voice called back through the door.

 

Charlotte, buried her face further into the pillow and yelled into it in frustration.  She knew she would be in some serious trouble, especially once she ducked Kofi’s escort.  She had just hoped her scolding wouldn’t be at six o’clock in the morning.

 

She gave herself a minute to just enjoy the silence of her room before she pushed herself out of bed.  They had sent Sane to get her so that way she knew they meant business. Kairi was easily one of the scarier people at the JTF.  Hidden behind her small stature and adorable features was a force of nature, one that Charlotte did not want to be the focus of… at least not more than she already was.

 

She pulled on a pair of pants, threw her hair back into a messy ponytail and walked out the door.  Xia was waiting there with a very stern look on her face. Charlotte sighed as she walked past her, “good morning Miss Li.”

  
  
Xia narrowed her eyes at Charlotte.  “Oh no you don’t. I am so mad at you right now.”

  
Xia moved so she was standing in front of Charlotte.  “Do you not understand how concerned everyone was? How scared some of us were?  You were just gone! And your node was off! We all thought you got taken! We were gearing up to go to war to find you!”   
  


Charlotte huffed out a loud breath.  “I appreciate the concern, Xia. But I’m no longer the Joint Commander, or does everyone keep forgetting that?”

  
  
“It was only temporary, or did  _ you _ forget that?”   


  
Charlotte closes her eyes and sighs.  “Dr. Scot.”   


  
“You’re late.  Apologize to Xia first and then join us in the briefing room.  You have two minutes.”   


  
Charlotte kept her eyes focused on the floor as she takes a deep breath.  “I’m sorry, Xia. I should’ve let someone know where I was going.”   


  
Xia cleared her throat, “yes, you should have.  Why didn’t you?”   
  


Charlotte looked up at her and made eye contact.  She saw the concern displayed there for her, blatantly obvious for everyone to see if they had been watching.  Charlotte felt that like a slap across her face. “The school settlement doesn’t trust the JTF. And what I needed to tell them… they needed to actually listen.  They wouldn’t have listened if I showed up with an armed escort.”

 

Xia nodded as she seemed to think over Charlotte’s answer.  “That’s still not an excuse Commander. Next time you need to go somewhere on your own, at least take another Agent with you.”

  
  
Charlotte considered pointing out that that move would be counter intuitive to not taking an armed escort, but she didn’t feel like fighting the younger woman.  So she smiled briefly. “I will Xia. I should have done that yesterday, and I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

  
“Just remember that for next time, that’s all I’m asking.  Now go, before Dr. Sane comes looking for you.”

  
  
Charlotte tried to repress the shudder that ran down her spine at the thought of being on Dr. Sane’s shit list.  “I will. Can I make it up to you? Will you eat lunch with me today?”   


  
Xia beamed as she nodded.  “I would love to! Now, shoo.”

  
  
Charlotte smiled to hide how awkward that had felt as she turned and headed towards the briefing room.  She paused outside the door and took a deep, steadying breath. She exhaled it slowly and then turned the knob and pushed through.

 

Three very upset looking women were sitting across the table from the doorway.  Dr. Scot simply raised an eyebrow at her entrance, Dr. Sane’s eyes narrowed and Dr. Bevis didn’t flinch, though it seemed like her arms twitched barely from where they were crossed over her chest.  

 

Charlotte cleared her throat and tried her hardest not to wince as she closed the door and took a seat across from them.  “You… uh, you wanted to see me?”

 

Dr. Scot pushed a piece of paper across the table at Charlotte.  “A new set of rules for you to follow.”   
  


“I don’t need more restrictions on what I can and cannot do,” Charlotte sighed as she looked over the new agreement that they obviously wanted her to sign.  “I’m a Division Agent. You don’t need to hold my hand.”

  
  
“Didn’t think we had to, but you sure proved us wrong yesterday,” Paige spoke up.

 

Charlotte rubbed at her eyes, “I needed to take a message south to the school that Agent Martinez is currently helping--”   


  
“And you couldn’t take someone with you?”  Dr. Scot interrupted.

 

“No, they wouldn’t have listened if I took an armed escort.”

  
  
“You couldn’t let one of us know where you were going?” Paige asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

Charlotte shook her head.  “No,” she protested. “You would have insisted that I take a group with me, which is the last thing I needed.  I had to go alone.”   


  
“Not good enough,” Kairi Sane finally spoke up.  “You are the Commander, you are important. We cannot lose you to your own stupidity and recklessness!”

 

Charlotte exhaled sharply as she shook he head, her eyes focused on the table.  “Not any more, I’m not.”   


  
She looked up at the three doctors sitting before her.  “You took that away from me. You took being the Commander out of my hands and gave it to someone else.  You told me to go relax a little and take care of myself. And the  _ second _ that I do, you drag me in here to give me more rules to follow.  You can’t have it both ways.”   


  
Dr. Scot cleared her throat.  “If you are quite done, we can discuss this like adults.”   


  
Charlotte rolled her eyes and stood up, “I don’t have time for this.”   


  
“Actually, time is all you have,” Dr. Bevis supplied.  “Your status as unfit for duty has been extended another week.”

 

Charlotte turned slowly to look at them.  “You have got to be kidding me. Why don’t you just make it a permanent adjustment then?  Give it to Kingston permanently since you seem to have such little faith in me.”

 

“Not so,” Kairi shook her head as she sighed, like a parent who was supremely disappointed in their child.

 

Charlotte looked over at her.  “What do you mean, ‘not so’?”   


  
“She means that it is actually quite the opposite, Commander.  We think you are the best fit for the job, which is why we are doing this,” Paige said.

 

“What?”

 

Dr. Scot smiled as Charlotte sat back down in her chair.  “You never really listen, do you? What we are doing here… forcing you to take time for yourself, forcing you to take a step back from leading, it’s all because we agree that you  _ should _ be the Commander.  You have been so caught up in making sure this place is running smoothly that you haven’t been able to see the improvements that have been made.”

 

Dr. Bevis nodded along and jumped in when she saw the chance.  “You saw there was an issue with the generators, and instead of making Rhea and Matt make do, you went out and got them new generators.  Ones that are more reliable and efficient. We haven’t had a black out in a while because of you.”

  
  
“I said we needed more medical supplies to keep the infirmary working.  You got me the supplies I needed,” Kairi offered.

 

“Several of the kitchen staff have reported that the food supply has tripled, and the motorpool mechanics are no longer crying for gas every other day like they were.”   


  
Charlotte’s brow furrowed as she regarded them.  “So you think that I’m actually making things better?  Then why stop my momentum? Why force me to take a step back?  This feels like a punishment instead of support for what I’m doing!”   


  
“It’s like I told you the first time we argued about the stipulations that needed to be in place.  If you continued at the pace you were attempting to keep, we would have been looking for a new commander in approximately two months.  You weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you weren’t doing anything other than working and  _ that _ right there would have killed you.  This,” Dr. Scot paused to gesture at the paper, “is designed to make sure that you are around for much longer than that.”

 

Kairi smiled.  “We need you as the Commander.  Anyone else will fail.”

 

Charlotte studied the three of them for a while and then sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat.  “What are the new restrictions?”   


  
Dr. Scot smiled smugly as she tapped on the paper.  “For starters, you’re going to have a personal guard until you can prove you can be trusted.  You’ll also be required to let the command center know where you are going when you leave headquarters.”  

 

She held up a finger when Charlotte looked like she was going to interrupt.  “That is, of course, unless your mission requires secrecy. Should you require a trip to the school again, an escort will accompany you, but will leave you out a few blocks away if that is what they require.”

 

Charlotte narrowed her eyes in challenge with Dr. Scot.  When neither woman seemed to be backing down after several moments, Charlotte finally sighed.  She signed the paper and pushed it back towards Dr. Scot. “Can I go now?”

 

Dr. Scot’s eyebrow rose slightly at the tone of voice that Charlotte was using.  “Yes, you are free to go. Remember, you now have a personal guard to pick up. Officer Evans has the first shift.”

  
  
Charlotte rolled her eyes as she stood and walked towards the door.  “Fine. I’ll make sure to find her if I have to leave the safe zone.”   


  
“And don’t forget our session tomorrow afternoon,” Dr. Scot called after her as the door closed behind Charlotte.  

 

Once out in the hallway, Charlotte placed her hand over her eyes and took a deep breath that she blew out slowly.  While she had been expecting that meeting to be much worse, it still hadn’t felt great to be guilted into signing the paper.  Honestly, the last thing she wanted...well the second to last thing seeing as the first was failing this city, was failing to gain the respect and trust of her people.  And I’m this moment, she felt like she had let everyone down. 

 

She hadn’t been able to protect the school and Agent Martinez, she hadn’t been able to keep the trust of Drs. Scott, Bevis and Sane, she had disappointed Xia.  These were all things that were tearing at her mind as she started making her way back to her bunk to give herself a minute to compose herself.

 

She had made it about five steps past the door of her office when Kofi called out to her.  “Commander, a word please.”

 

Charlotte took the extra couple of steps so she was out of sight of the office.  She sighed and hung her head, giving herself a second before she turned around and walked into the office.  “Commander Kingston, how can I help you?”

 

“Close the door, please.”

 

Charlotte slowly turned and closed the door before she walked the rest of the way into the office.  She sat down in the chair when Kofi indicated for her to do so. Then she sat there in silence as Kingston studied her.

 

“I like you, Charlotte.  I like you, trust you and respect you.  But I am also mad at you.”

 

Charlotte diverted her eyes as she exhaled.  “I know. I’m sorry for ditching you yesterday.  I should’ve at least clued you in to what I was doing.”

 

“Damn right you should have.  I get why you didn’t want an escort to take you down there, but fuck.  Let me know next time,” Kofi said as he shook his head.  

 

“I will,” Charlotte nodded.

 

“Now…” Kofi leveled his gaze on her which made her feel like a kid in the principal’s office.  “I agreed to step in as interim-Commander  _ for you. _ I think you’re the right pick for this job, and I was willing to step in so you could recalibrate, or whatever.  But if you’re going to keep rebelling against the Dr.’s orders, I  _ will  _ step down.”

 

He paused to make sure what he was saying was sinking in.  “I hate this job, and I don’t really want this job. So tell me now if I’m going to have any more problems from you so I can go resign.”

 

He held up his hand when she went to speak.  “We both know that if I step down, this job will most likely go to Ziggler.  And while he’s a good Agent, he would fuck this position up bad. So, I’m willing to keep your seat warm until you get cleared to come back.  But you keep trying Dr. Scot’s patience…  _ my _ patience?  I’ll walk away and let Ziggler have his way with the city.  Understood?”

 

Charlotte sighed, but nodded.  “I understand. They gave me another week, can you hold on to my desk that long?”

 

Kofi groaned as he flopped back in the chair.  “Come on! You’re killing me here, Charlotte!”

 

“I know!  I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t like how they felt like they could just push me around, so part of that was me flipping them off.”

 

Kofi shook his head. “Your display of late onset teenage rebellion was really stupid, you know that right?”

 

Charlotte rolled her eyes.  “Yes, I am aware. Even Agent Martinez told me as much, and she doesn’t even like me.”

 

He raised an eyebrow in confusion.  “Martinez? Never heard of her.”

 

Charlotte sighed as she rubbed at her eyes.  “She’s second wave and is operating outside of the downtown area.”

 

“She’s at the school, isn’t she?  That’s why you felt you had to go down there?” Kofi asked with obvious interest.

 

“Yeah, had to try and get her in the fold one last time.  Face to face… she wouldn’t have been able to deny me. And she didn’t, but now she’s asking to be left alone, so it’s a moot point.”

 

Kofi smirked, “see?  Was that so hard?”

 

“What?” Charlotte asked, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

 

“You just explained why you had to go to the school.  Could’ve done that yesterday, and we wouldn’t be in the situation we’re in right now.”

 

Charlotte groaned, “enough with the scoldings!  I get it! I fucked up!”

 

Kofi chuckled even as he glared at her. “Yes, you did. Don’t do it again,” he said as he pointed at her.

 

Charlotte raised her hands.  “I won’t. I’m going to try and behave the next couple of days… hopefully they’ll lift the jail sentence early.”

 

“We can only hope,” Kofi nodded.  “Now go, do whatever it is you’re going to do so you can get off Scot’s shit list.”

 

Charlotte stood and tossed him a mock salute.  “Sir, yes sir.”

 

Kofi threw a pen at her as she walked out of his office laughing. 

  
  


_______________

  
  


“That was delicious, thank you,” Tessa sighed as she leaned back in her chair.  She smiled down at Charlotte who was kneeling next to her chair, a plate of food in one hand and a fork in the other.

 

Charlotte, nodded but stayed silent as she placed the now empty plate on the table.  Tessa smiled down at her and reached down to gently run her fingers through Charlotte’s hair.  “Everything was perfect, baby girl. You were so good.”

 

Charlotte nodded, “thank you.”

 

Tessa took a piece of bread out of a basket and broke off a piece, twisting in her throne like chair she held the morsel before Charlotte’s mouth. “Go on, girl, eat up. You’ll need your strength.”

 

Charlotte leaned forward and gently took the piece of bread between her lips, humming in appreciation.  She kept her eyes fixed on the floor in front of her so she didn’t upset Tessa.

 

Tessa smiled as she watched Charlotte chew. She watched for a few moments before, with obvious deliberation, she pushed her wine glass off the table. It fell to the ground and sent the red liquid splattering everywhere. Tessa raised her eyebrow at Charlotte. “Look what you’ve done...clean it.”

 

Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek.  The Commander in her wanted to tell Tessa to fuck off and clean it herself.  But the bigger part of Charlotte, the part that wanted nothing more than to be accepted, cherished, cared for, loved… that part won out.  She moved over and first picked up the glass. Then she started to clean up the spill that was quickly spreading everywhere.

 

Tessa suddenly took Charlotte’s hair and pulled her head back, firmly but slowly. “Not with your hands...lick it clean.”

 

Charlotte whimpered at the pain in her scalp, but she couldn’t stop her tongue from poking out and licking her lips.  She nodded as best she could and waited for Tessa to let her go so she could do what was commanded of her.

 

Tessa released Charlotte and watched her bend down toward the spill. She smiled as she ran fingers down Charlotte’s spine. “Very good, Charlotte. Isn’t so much simpler when you give up your will to me?”

 

Charlotte took a breath, the air trembling uncertainly through her lungs.  She paused just long enough to nod and push out a shaky “yes, ma’am,” before she went back to work.

 

“Louder,” Tess said, sternly.

 

Charlotte cleared her throat and tried again.  “Yes, ma’am.”

 

Tessa smiled as she waited for Charlotte to lap up most of the wine before she raised Charlotte up to her knees against. “There…” she said as she played with Charlotte’s hair “...that’s better. I think you’ve earned yourself a little present.”

 

Charlotte closed her eyes and felt herself leaning towards the other woman as some of the weight of being Commander lifted off her shoulders.  It was an unorthodox relationship, but Tessa had always made her feel accepted and safe. “Thank you.”

 

Tessa took a small box off a table beside her chair and placed it in front of Charlotte. “Go on, open it.”

 

Charlotte studied her for a moment.  It was rare that she was ever given a physical gift from Tessa.  Usually her rewards came in the form of sex and being held afterwards.  Her brows furrowed without her permission, but she just managed to bite her tongue before she questioned the sincerity of the present.  She turned her attention instead to the gift, which she opened carefully.

 

The crease between her eyes deepened as she lifted out the black leather collar that was adorned with studs.  It was an…intricate piece, one that would definitely stand out against Charlotte’s pale skin.  

 

She swallowed once, hard.  This wasn’t something they had ever dabbled in before, keeping most of their kinks to inside the bedroom.  But with how ornate this collar was, Charlotte had an inkling that Tessa would want her to wear it all the time.  And that was something Charlotte wasn’t sure she was okay with. “Ma’am?” she asked cautiously. 

 

Tessa leaned forward in her chair, bringing her lips to Charlotte’s ear. “I know what you’re thinking Lottie...you can leave it here when you have to run back to the JTF. But when you’re here, I want you to wear it.” She fell silent for a moment as she started kissing the side of Charlotte’s neck. “It would please me...and you want to make me proud, don’t you?”

 

Charlotte could feel her body responding to Tessa’s attention.  Her mind worked through exactly what was being asked of her, and if it made Tessa proud, then she would wear it.  After all, making her family and loved ones proud of her is all she ever really wanted. “I do want to make you proud.  You know that.”

 

“Hold your hair,” Tessa said contentedly. She waited for Charlotte to comply as she buckled the collar around her neck. “Look at my beautiful girl…” she purred as she stroked Charlotte’s hair.

 

Charlotte moaned at the tone of Tessa’s voice.  “Do you like it?”

 

“Of course, you know I love it when you please me. The question is...how happy does it make you to be mine now officially?”

 

Charlotte grinned and couldn’t stop the blush from spreading across her face.  “It makes me so happy. I love it when I please you.”

 

Tessa nodded as she took a second box from her side table. Opening it she withdrew a leash which she proceeded to clip to Charlotte’s collar before standing. “Come,” she said as she stood and gave Charlotte’s leash a tug. With that she set off toward the door to her quarters.

 

Charlotte shot to her feet and stumbled after the brunette, hoping that none of this ever got out to members of the JTF.  They would definitely never respect her if they could see her now. But she was in too deep, this connection was too old, too comfortable, too strong for her to break now.  Besides, she loved Tessa and would do anything for her, just like the other woman would do anything for Charlotte.

 

Tessa led Charlotte into her bedroom by the leash. She then sat down on the bed and pointed at a sideboard. “Get me a drink and a cigar, now.” She punctuated this by snapping her fingers. 

 

Charlotte hurried to do what was demanded of her.  So far she had managed to stay on Tessa’s good side, but one wrong move and things could change drastically.  She managed to pour the drink and prepared the cigar. She handed both to Tessa.

 

Tessa set the drink aside and clamped the cigar in her teeth. She waited for several moments before she removed it and glared up at Charlotte. “Well? Am I supposed to light it myself? Get the lighter you ditz! Honestly, Charlotte, what would you do if you didn’t have me to think for you?”

 

Charlotte yelped and fumbled through the drawer for the lighter.  She held it up to the cigar and tried to light it a few times, but her hand was shaking so badly that it took several tries to get the flame lit.  “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

 

Tessa glared at Charlotte in a way she’d used since they’d first begun their sexual dynamic. A way that could still make the taller woman feel like an absentminded little girl. But surprisingly, Tessa relented. Taking a grip on Charlotte’s dangling leash she used it to tug her down to her knees. When Charlotte was kneeling before her, Tessa tapped her chin with a finger. “Open your mouth.”

 

A look of fear passed across Charlotte’s face quickly.  She didn’t want to know what Tessa had in mind for punishment.  So instead of opening her mouth as was demanded she but her bottom lip instead, her head shaking minutely in the negative.  “Please…” she whispered.

 

Tessa took Charlotte’s chin in her hand, squeezing firmly. “Charlotte…” she said in a tone that, while calm, promised storm clouds on the horizon “...Open your mouth.”

 

Charlotte squeezes her eyes shut and opened her mouth.  The punishment she was about to get wouldn’t be anything compared to the punishment she would receive if she disobeyed again.

 

Tessa took a deep drag on her cigar and then blew a stream of smoke toward Charlotte’s mouth. She knew Charlotte didn’t like the smell of cigar smoke, but as punishments went this was a mild one by her standards. She smiled as Charlotte began to cough. She let this go on for a few moments before she took Charlotte’s chin again and looked into her eyes. “Don’t you ever make me repeat myself again, understood?”

 

Charlotte sniffled as her eyes filled with tears from the smoke.  “Yes. Sorry, ma’am.”

 

Tessa nodded and then let her face soften as she took Charlotte’s head into her lap and began to stroke her hair. She knew this was a sure fire way to lower her toy’s defenses. “I want you to be your best for me Lottie...because I care so much about you.”

 

Charlotte whimpered as she buried her face in Tessa’s thigh.  “I’m trying. It’s just so hard. I don’t know if I can do it.”

 

Tessa hushed her and continued to stroke her hair. “My poor Lottie, are things difficult at work?” 

 

Charlotte pulled herself closer to Tessa.  “I can’t talk about it.”

 

Tessa smiled in a way that, if she’d seen it, would have made Charlotte uneasy. But her voice was perfectly gentle as she ran fingers along Charlotte’s face. “Oh of course not, sweetie. It’s just...I thought you loved me and trusted me…”

 

Charlotte turned her head so she could look up at Tessa, appalled at that statement. “Of course I love you!  I always have. And I obviously trust you. It’s just that…”. She paused and seemed to think about it. “It’s classified information.  I can’t give that out.”

 

Tessa shushed her again. “Of course, now...just relax. Let Tessa take care of you. We’ll have a nice chat, like we did last time…”

 

__________

  
  


Charlotte sat in the briefing room a few days later, a bunch of papers spread out in front of her.  It was incident reports and location write ups where Agent Conway had been spotted. He had hit his distress beacon almost three days ago and had been on the move ever since.  

 

Charlotte studied one of the buildings he had camped out in for a few hours and turned her head slightly at the sight of all the windows covered with fabric or paper of some sort.  Which, to Charlotte could only mean one thing… he was hiding from a sniper. She looked at another printout and wondered if it was the Ghost.

 

She scoffed to herself.  Of course it was the Ghost.  He was an Agent on the run from a Sniper.  It could only be the Ghost.  

 

The door opened and Charlotte was quick to try and hide the paperwork.  Dr. Scot poked her head in and smiled at her. “Oh, there you are.”

 

Charlotte groaned and flopped back in the chair.  “Come on! I’ve been behaving myself, following your rules and everything!”

 

“Except for now, it seems,” Dr. Scot responded immediately as she walked into the room.

 

“Commander Kingston asked me to take a look at the intel on Agent Conway.  It’s a time sensitive matter, otherwise he wouldn’t have asked,” Charlotte was quick to explain. 

 

Dr. Scot waved her hand dismissively.  “That’s okay, I get that sometimes rules need to be bent a little to achieve a goal.  An Agent’s safety is one of those times.”

 

When Charlotte looked shocked, Dr. Scot continued. “Contrary to what people seem to think Commander Flair, I am a reasonable person and can be successfully bartered with.”

 

Charlotte rolled her eyes.  “If you say so. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

 

“Perfect!  Because I’m about to be rather reasonable if I do say so myself.”

 

“How do you figure?” Charlotte asked, her right eyebrow rising slightly.  

 

Dr. Scot shrugged as she smiled.  “I just got done speaking with Officer Evans.  She says you’ve been going to Soldier Field to meet with your childhood friend.  That’s the kind of thing I’ve been talking about. Go out there and see her more often, you’ll find yourself relaxing more.”

 

Charlotte desperately tried to keep the blush under control.  “I think that would be nice.” She tried to keep her voice under control so she didn’t give away the fact that she had been conducting Commander duties while she was there.  

 

“I spoke with Dr.’s Sane and Bevis, and we all believe that you can be reinstated as the Commander, effective immediately.  Granted you continue to adhere to the rules we’ve set in place. But we agree that you have done well to show us that you can be trusted, barring that issue in your trip to the south.”

 

Charlotte blinked at her in surprise.  “Are you serious?”

 

Dr. Scot handed her a piece of paper that stated her reinstatement date and was signed by three people.  “They won’t say it, but we’re proud of you. I know that we came down hard on you, but it’s because we care about your wellbeing.  And I know we might not tell you this enough, but we do believe that you are the right person for the job. **_I_** believe you’re the right person for this job and I want to keep you in this position.”

 

Charlotte opened and shut her mouth a few times.  “I uh…thank you. I appreciate this.”   


  
Dr. Scot smirked, “don’t thank me quite yet.  Acting Commander Kingston took off as soon as he heard that we were reinstating you.  He said something about needing to spend a long time in the field to wash the stink of desk work off his skin.  So, with that in mind you have these meetings starting in an hour.”    


  
Charlotte looked down at the list of meetings that Dr. Scot handed her.  “Seven!? Seriously!? Did Kingston not hold any meetings at all?”   


 

Dr. Scot shrugged as she walked out the door.  “I didn’t ask. Welcome back Commander!” 

 

Charlotte watched her go and then looked down at the meetings.  “Dreamer is first? Oh come on!”  

 

She sighed and gave herself a few moments to pout about the meetings.  She finally stood, gathered her paperwork and headed to her office so she could get back to work.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a few days late and I am so sorry. My job has had me working 16 hour days all week and I had some work to do on editing this chapter that just didn’t get done until tonight. I know this isn’t a good excuse, but it’s the one I got. 
> 
> You all are so amazing though with how patient you’ve been. You are all, in all honesty, the best community I have ever been a part of. The amount of love AP and I have been getting has been unreal. As always, the kudos, bookmarks, and comments mean the world to us. Thank you, thank you, thank you.


	40. The Clever Prey - Sasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Sasha Banks refocuses on her preferred prey. But her current target is far more clever than most, will the Ghost get her man?

Sasha Banks approached the completely unmarked metal door and knocked. There was no response at first before a small shudder was pulled aside.

 

“ _ Co chcesz?”  _ a gruff voice demanded in Polish.

 

“ _ Napój i cokolwiek jeszcze sprzedasz, mogę zapłacić,”  _ Sasha answered in the same language. Her accent was flawless, perfectly matching that of someone who had spent their life in or around Warsaw.

 

“ _ Kim jesteś?”  _ the man on the other side of the door asked suspiciously.

 

“ _ Nazywam się klientem, płacę nawet za moją anonimowość,”  _ Sasha answered, giving him a challenging look. There was a long pause while the man considered before the shutter closed. After a short pause, several locks and bars were moved on the other side of the door with a series of loud clunking sounds. When the door swung open, Sasha found herself facing a gigantic man with a braided beard. Before he could speak, Sasha pressed a wad of bills into his hand and walked past him.

 

She emerged into the kind of bar she used to dance in. The lighting was low, most of the bulbs were some kind of neon, and the clientele was a mix of glowering men and half-nude women. As far as Sasha could tell she was the only female patron in the place. She detected the scent of tobacco, marijuana, and several stronger substances in the air. 

 

Despite the end of much of American society, places like this bar continued to thrive. There was always a demand for escapism, and the worse the world was the more acute that demand became. Of course, places like this had always existed, but in the new world, they didn’t need to be hidden. Just guarded. 

 

Given her current occupation, Sasha often found herself dealing with people who frequented such places. This meant that she became familiar with them as well, she studied every aspect of her prey including their haunts. Sasha had come to appreciate such establishments as good sources of information when she needed it. But such things needed to be handled delicately so, without a word, she made her way to the bar.

 

“ _ Vodka, neat,”  _ she said in Polish. Sasha rarely partook of alcohol herself but she knew there were appearances to be kept up.

 

“ _ You looking for anything else?”  _ the bartender asked her. The woman’s polish was heavily accented and Sasha surmised she’d been born in the United States.

 

“ _ Not yet, perhaps later,”  _ Sasha answered. She was wearing her hooded cloak, but she’d left the hood back. She wasn’t worried about recognition, however. Quite apart from the fact that almost no one knew what she actually looked like, she didn’t look like herself tonight. She had a long brunette wig over her hair, had subtly lightened her skin with makeup, and was wearing thick glasses. She topped the entire look off with a Chicago Cubs hat. 

 

Sasha was an expert in the matter of disguise. Every aspect of her current appearance had been carefully selected. She had darkened and thickened her eyebrows because even slightly modifying the brow could completely change a face. She wore the glasses and hat because they were the kind of features that stuck in people’s memory. And the kind that would make a casual observer ignore the features underneath.

 

“ _ You speak excellent Polish,”  _ the bartender commented in her much less than excellent form of the language.

 

“ _ My father was from Warsaw, mother from here,”  _ Sasha muttered into her glass. She was careful not to actually drink of the liquid but she wanted to make sure people thought she was doing so. Sasha only had to wait for about fifteen minutes for her contact to arrive but in that time she had to dismiss two men and two women who were seeking her company. It reminded her of her days as a dancer.

 

“ _ Vodka should be enjoyed as itself, not mixed,”  _ a voice said from beside Sasha as a heavyset man took the stool to her left. Like everyone else in the bar, he was speaking Polish. It was an agreed-upon passphrase, but it still made Sasha’s lip curl.

 

“ _ You enjoy this game far too much, find us a booth,”  _ Sasha said peremptorily. This drew a chuckle from the man who nonetheless complied. A few moments later, Sasha stood and followed him across the bar. There weren’t any open booths but Sasha’s companion had only to approach one of them and jerk his thumb to send the occupants scurrying. Ivan Putski was an important, and dangerous, a man whom many feared. Sasha found this reaction more amusing than anything, but she was grateful for the deference now.

 

When Putski had slid into the booth across from her, grunting loudly at the effort, Sasha put a box on the table. Had she been conducting this business before the Green Poison she would have been more discrete. There was no need for such precautions any longer as there was no law enforcement to speak of.

 

“A gift,” Sasha said, switching to English. Putski looked at her with a bemused expression but pulled the box toward him and opened it. When he looked down he let out a bark of laughter that drew eyes from the other patrons. 

 

“You are efficient, aren’t you?” he asked, still chuckling. The box contained a human hand. Sasha had cut it off the corpse of a man she’d killed the day before. He had been an enforcer for a small-time gang that had done something to earn a bounty on his head from Putski. Sasha had collected on other bounties for the man before, simply because she found his contacts useful and he was willing to share them in exchange for such work. So far she’d killed a pair of drug dealers, a pimp, and the last target. So no great loss among them.

 

I need information on a man,” Sasha answered, still in English. She never wasted time bantering with Putski. The man fancied himself as a bonafide gangster but Sasha had no wish to indulge his delusions. 

 

“I know many men.”

 

“A Division agent, he frequents this bar and others like it. Tall, muscular, dark hair and mustache. He goes by the name Rob Conway.”

 

“Ah, I do know Agent Conway. And what has he done to warrant your interest?” Putski asked. Sasha didn’t answer, she never did with his prying questions but this didn’t stop him from asking them. When the silence had stretched for several long moments, he cleared his throat.

 

“You have done me a service so I will share what little I know. He does indeed drink here, even enjoys visiting some of the girls. But he keeps his business private.”

 

Sasha just raised her eyebrow until Putski spoke again.

 

“However, I do know that he has a reputation as a man who can acquire...delicate merchandise. Suppose a wealthy man or woman is seeking a pretty young girl or boy...Mr. Conway appears to be a man who can make such wishes come true,” Putski said. His voice was completely neutral, as though he were discussing nothing more appalling than the weather.

 

Sasha kept her face just as impassive. “Where can he be found?” she asked.

 

“I have no idea where he might lay his head. But I do know that he is partial to some of Velveteen Bliss’ services’. I also understand that he has some contacts at Soldier Field, though the Tully’s refuse to allow his particular trade inside,” Putsky answered.

 

Sasha narrowed her eyes as she considered this information. She’d known about the Velveteen Bliss connection, but this hadn’t been much to work with. Most of the scum in Chicago ended up coming through that establishment. But the Soldier Field connection was an interesting lead. She was reflecting on this when, as expected, Putski betrayed her.

 

“Unfortunately for you, Agent Conway pays myself and others to-” he began to say. Sasha never let him finish, she simply stood and fired her Maxim 9 pistol twice into his chest. The Maxim was a wonderful weapon, featuring an integrated suppressor in it’s design.  This made it much easier to handle, which suited Sasha’s needs perfectly in this situation. 

 

No doubt, Putski had been about to reveal that Conway was paying him to take care of anyone who asked questions about him. Sasha had caught his surreptitious glances across the bar and had simply assumed this was him telling his men to get into position. So she’d taken the initiative. She’d known he would be wearing a vest but it wasn’t of much use at a distance of three feet.

 

Before anyone could react, and no one would have heard the suppressed pistol shots over the music in the bar, in any case, Sasha moved in a blur. She holstered her pistol, stood, used her left hand to draw a wad of flash paper from a pouch on her harness, produced a lighter from her pocket with her right hand, all before she finally stood from the booth. She could see the two men closing on her but in less than two seconds she’d lit the paper and tossed it into the air. The resulting bright flash was made even brighter by the dim lighting in the bar. 

 

It was enough to dazzle anyone who happened to be looking, this included both Putski's guards. As they winced, Sasha shot both of them. The hectic music and other loud background was the perfect cover. Unless someone had been looking directly at Sasha while she did this, they would never have known what had happened. Her flash paper had ensured that almost no one in the vicinity had clear vision so it was a simple matter to make her escape.

 

\---------

 

Sasha spent the next few days observing the comings and goings from Soldier Field. She’d set JTG and Shad to work on the same task, though she’d had to pay a bit more than previously for their help. The two men were obviously still smarting after their rough handling by Straight Fire.

 

When neither Sasha nor her informants caught sight of Conway himself, Sasha did turn up another lead. She’d entered the stadium several times in various disguises and put out some discreet feelers. She’d had no initial success but today, she was away from Soldier Field because she’d finally had a bite on her bait. Someone wanted to discuss ‘business’ with her. 

 

That business being the purchase of several children.

 

Of course, no one in that line of business trusted anyone else. Even among other criminals, they were considered the lowest of the low. So Sasha had arranged, through several intermediaries, to meet her new contact at a neutral location.

 

A parking ramp.

 

Now, Sasha watched from the shadows as a tall and well-built man strode into the ramp. He was accompanied by several guards, though none struck Sasha as being particularly dangerous. They were big and carried guns, but they moved like neanderthals. They were good for intimidating the timorous, but no great danger to someone like Sasha.

 

“Is she here yet?” their leader asked, as though one of his men might know. They’d all arrived together. Sasha rolled her eyes at this sign of idiocy but she supposed it was best to have enemies of inferior intelligence. Even if it could be sadly disappointing.

 

“Let us talk,” Sasha called, listening to her voice echo around the interior of the ramp. She was rewarded with a collective startled jump by the men she was observing. It was comical how all of their heads began swiveling around them, trying to determine which direction Sasha’s voice had come from.

 

“Come out,” the leader insisted. He had a French-Canadian accent which gave his voice an unctuous quality.

 

“Talk, or I will go to someone else,” came Sasha’s response from the darkness. The men exchanged looks of consternation at this but they seemed to decide that they didn’t want to lose a potential buyer.

 

“What do you want?” the leader asked.

 

“Young, boys, and girls, very soon. I need to know you can handle this order,” Sasha called after having shifted position.

 

“Oh, we can handle anything you wish,” the man called back, sounding more confident now.

 

“Who is ‘we’?” Sasha asked.

 

“My employer is the only one to talk to in the city for this sort of merchandise,” the man answered smugly. 

 

“Big talk, but you could just be making him up,” Sasha countered.

 

“Oh, I assure you he’s quite real. No one can get you more merchandise more securely, we’re run by a division agent!”

 

“Isn’t that MORE risky, what if the JTF finds out?” Sasha asked, making some final calibrations.

 

The leader scoffed, he was in his element now. Sasha guessed he’d probably had other ‘clients’ express this same concern. “That clueless bitch who runs the JTF has no idea what’s going on. She thinks all her agents are boy scouts and girl scouts. She’s got guns, supplies, and information flying out of there right under her nose. Our boss even has the stupid bitch providing him with his gear!”

 

“Clever…” Sasha said, sounding impressed “...So he’ll make sure all my deals are protected?”

 

“Yes, Rob Conway doesn’t let anyone fuck with his business!” 

 

“Good…” Sasha said as she squeezed her trigger. Her rifle bucked as her bullet hit the cable holding up the large plastic container that she had hung over the entrance. The container dropped sideways, spilling out its contents all over the men, coating them in a fine white powder. 

  
Then the screaming started. The men howled and clawed at their skin. Though Sasha couldn’t see it, she knew that it would be breaking out in angry red sores and burning as though there was fire underneath it. This wasn’t surprising, Sasha had just dumped a box full of calcium oxide on them. Otherwise known as quicklime. 

 

Painful though it was, some of the men were still standing. Sasha dealt with them with shots to their elbows and forearms. When they were disarmed she took aim and shot the leader in his ankle, even as he blundered toward the exit. Then she stood, donned her rebreather, goggles, and gloves, and made her way to the men.

 

“The powder will blind you eventually…” she said dispassionately “...You’ve all inhaled enough that it will probably kill you slowly. Which seems fitting to me.”

 

“Please…” one of the hired thugs moaned at her feet. Sasha ignored him and reached down to grab the leader under his arms. She grunted as she hauled him away from the others and up a ramp to the second story. She was breathing very hard when she finished, but she had him in position. He was still whimpering piteously but he hadn’t tried to struggle, he didn’t now, even as Sasha affixed the cable around his chest.  

 

“Please...help me…” he moaned, obviously in agony. But Sasha just walked over to a winch she had positioned nearby and hit a button. The man yelped as he was lifted slowly into the air by the cable that Sasha had tossed over a thick pipe. When his feet were just off the ground, Sasha shut off the winch.

 

“For the love of god! Please help me! My eyes!” the man screamed.

 

“Oh, a man in your line of work might be best served to attract as little divine attention as possible. Don’t you think?” Sasha asked as she approached him slowly. 

  
Sasha Banks was as coolly calculating as a human being could well be. Her intellect ensured this, even as it isolated her from her fellow men and women. But she was still human, and her upbringing had brought her a certain irrational attachment to children who were forced into circumstances beyond their control. And so, though it would never show, there was a spark of blisteringly cold fury in her soul as she approached her victim.

 

“My eyes…” the man whimpered.

 

“I regret them as you do, without them you won’t be able to see what is about to happen as I do it,” Sasha said, speaking as though she were reading off a menu. 

 

“When I get down I’m-”

 

Sasha shushed the man quietly, as though he were a child. “You aren’t getting down, sir. In fact, you won’t ever leave this place.”

 

“Conway will-!”

 

Sasha cut him off again. “Oh, I hope very much to meet Mr. Conway someday soon. But to do that, I will need information from you. Now...I’m going to kill you, sir. It will be extremely slow and very painful for you. Which, as I reflect, is exactly the fate you deserve. You are going to tell me where Conway is, and everything else I there is to know about him. Then you will tell me where your current captives are being held.”

 

“F-f-fuck you!” the man whispered, but he did so in a half sob. But it was the last defiant statement he made. Sasha had drawn a knife and lifted one of his feet. 

 

Almost two hours later, Sasha left the ramp. She left the man’s body hanging where it was in a state that would horrify all but the sturdiest of men and women. She’d made sure he’d died slowly and felt every second of it. And she had to admit that it felt good to know that he’d left this world experiencing some of the pain he put into it. But she had no time to indulge any further in such brutal justice. 

  
She was back on the hunt. Her target? Agent Robert Conway.

 

And woe betide any who stood in her way.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	41. Dance Puppet, Dance - Sasha and Becky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Conway has been on the run from the Ghost. Little did he know that he was running right into the Ghost's trap. Only one person can help him now, but will Straight Fire be willing to?

Many adults tended to get frustrated when confronted with challenges. When confronted with unexpected or unexpectedly steep difficulties, they would shrink back and seek an alternative. Worse, many tended to simply give up at the first obstacle. Few people had true staying power and society (or at least as it had existed before the dollar flu) had enabled this behavior.

 

None of this applied to Sasha Banks. She was delighted at obstacles. It just gave her a chance to bring the overwhelming might over her intellect to bear. And when she did that it became a simple matter of patience. Sasha Banks didn’t fail.

 

After her brief interlude with Straight Fire, Sasha was back to doing her most important work. Hunting down and dispatching Division agents. They were the most dangerous prey in the city and as such, they called for the most dangerous hunter. Her. 

 

She’d already added another SHD watch and node to her collection in the two weeks since she’d rededicated herself to her hunting. Her present quarry, however, was proving to be far more intriguing. The thought pleased her, and it would make the final moments when he was in her scope all the more satisfying.

 

Agent Robert Conway had thus far managed to elude her on three separate occasions. None of her other targets had ever managed it more than once. The man seemed to have a highly developed instinct for danger. Sasha had hunted and killed many men and women who could have been described as cautious, Conway was almost clairvoyant. 

 

Many would have supposed that this was due to Conway’s decade of service in the marine corps. But Sasha’s experience told her that marines were simply grunts who felt the need to talk about it more than others. No, the sense that Conway was showing ran far deeper than occupational history. This was an innate cunning. Something that one was born with and then honed over a lifetime.

 

Unfortunately for the former marine...Sasha had this instinct too. 

 

She had to concede that some complacency had slipped into her routine. She’d grown used to being able to easily outwit her opponents with rudimentary schemes. These had been more than adequate in the case of Lynch. But Conway wasn’t being taken in by a seemingly unprotected horde of supplies or calls for help. So it was incumbent on Sasha to raise her own game.

 

Or rather, to change the game entirely.

 

She’d been sadly limited in her previous thinking. This didn’t have to be just another hunt for her. No, why not use it for multiple purposes. After all, several people needed messages from the Ghost. Conway’s death could serve a much larger purpose if handled correctly. 

 

And so she’d changed her approach. She couldn’t handle this the same way she had with Lynch. In that case, she’d simply needed to start herding the other woman toward her eventual goal. Conway wouldn’t be taken in so easily. So Sasha began doing the exact opposite.

 

It was never much. Perhaps a section of street that seemed too inviting. Or maybe the merest rustle in an apparently empty building. But little by little, Sasha began attempting to herd Conway in the opposite direction of where she wanted him. This took several days, but eventually, she noticed the slight shift.  The man began to move exactly where Sasha wanted.

 

It was never rapid movement, and he would often double back or veer off. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, he was moving. This process ended up taking almost a week. But then Sasha had again changed the game around her target. She began cutting off his routes of escape, leaving signs that she was near. This could be something as plain as a demon shot cleanly through the head and left in the road or as subtle as leaving some of her cartridges in a building. 

 

Sasha highly doubted anyone would ever pick up on all the signs she left. It would be next to impossible. But she left enough to leave the unavoidable conclusion that she was present and active. Most importantly, that she was closing in inexorably. Sasha was fostering a climate designed to cause panic in her quarry. And as he felt the walls begin to close in around him he would seek help.

 

There was only one place for him to go.

 

\----------

 

Becky Lynch sat at her bar, a group of canisters in front of her.  She had had a few days of lighter work that needed to be done, so she had spent some time in the lab creating a new set of explosives that she hoped would help in a firefight.  The idea behind them was that the fire would spread with the liquid as it expanded, making a wall of fire that could cut off an escape or herd people where she wanted them to go.

 

That was the idea anyway.  She had yet to test it large scale in the field, but as always she was excited to do so.  Even if the canisters turned into a massive failure, something was bound to go boom, and that always made Becky happy.

 

Her hand darted to her pistol that was on her hip as Cú Chulainn perked up from where he had been sitting at Becky’s feet.  His ears tipped back and he started to growl lowly, meaning this person wasn’t someone who was considered a friend. She waited until there was a loud knock on the door.  It was rapid, loud and almost desperate.

 

Becky got to her feet and walked to the door, sliding back the latches before taking a large step back and to her right so she would be slightly behind the door when it was opened.  She drew her pistol and had it up and aiming.

 

Another knock sounded and then the person finally tried the handle, turning it immediately and pushing the door inward, he all but fell in after it in his haste to get inside.

 

“State yer business,” Becky growled, the barrel of her pistol aimed right between his eyes.

 

The man was on all fours, breathing as though he’d just run several miles. It took the better part of a minute to simply regain his voice. “Are...you...Straight Fire?” he gasped.

 

Becky studied him for a second, “aye, that’s me,” she finally answered as she swung the door closed.  “Didn’t answer my question though.”

 

“My...my name is…” he coughed several times here before he could continue “...Agent Rob Conway, Division.”

 

Becky holstered her pistol and helped him to his feet.  She guided him to a stool at the bar and then got him a glass of water.  “Okay Rob Conway, Division. You have my attention, now why can I do fer ya?  It’s not often I get one of you lot in my bar.”

 

Conway downed the glass in one go. “I need your help...I need it bad.”

 

Becky narrowed her eyes at him.  “Yer sure doin’ a terrible job of answerin’ my questions.  I figured you needed help from how ya almost knocked my door off its hinges.  So start tellin’ me what I want ta know or I’m sendin’ ya back out tha way ya came.”

 

“Someone is hunting me...I...I…” his voice fades away and he just stares helplessly at Becky. His eyes were full of an animal panic that made it seem as though he might bolt at any moment.

 

“And ya decided ta bring that to my doorstep?  Why?”

 

Conway took a few deep gulps of air. “They say...they say that you’re the only one who has gone against...gone against them and lived. That Straight Fire is the only one who has fought the Ghost and won. I need your help, I need you to protect me!”

 

Becky’s eyebrows shot to her forehead.  “Tha Ghost is tha one chasin’ ya? You should’a lead with that, mate.  ‘Course I’m goin ta help ya if that’s tha case. But quick question… why she followin’ ya?”

 

Conway shrugged frantically. “I don’t know! My CI’s started vanishing, my allies after that. I know the Ghost has already got another Agent I knew. I used to think I was a badass but I can’t keep away from this guy, whoever he is. Do you know what it’s like? Having to live every second of everyday afraid to go anywhere because you’re afraid you could get shot?”  
  


 

“Aye, lad.  I’m aware of what that can be like.  It’s how she and I started buttin’ heads ta begin with.”  Becky paused for a few moments while she simply looked at Conway.  “Where ya tryin ta get?”

 

“She?” Conway asked, sounding surprised.

 

Becky sighed exasperatedly.  “Aye, tha Ghost is a woman… an’ a small one at that.  Doesn’t make ‘er any less deadly though. So I’ll ask ya again, once yer done being butthurt that a woman is kickin’ yer ass.  Where ya tryin’ ta get?”

 

Conway held up his hands. “Easy, I didn’t mean anything. The rumors all say they are a guy is all. And I don’t know, I was hoping you’d know a safe place. I hear there is someplace way in the south that’s safe…”

 

“Nah, that’s a myth as far as I know,” Becky said as she shook her head.  She narrowed her eyes as she thought about the best place for him. “I can’t keep ya here.  The people hear that tha Ghost is hangin’ round and they’ll stop comin’ fer help. Ya got an issue with tha JTF?”

 

“I didn’t, Anderson and I were close. I don’t know anything about the new girl. I tried to reach one of their patrols a few days ago but the Ghost took a shot at me. Missed by a few inches but she forced me back into cover.” Conway looked troubled at the recollection.

 

This time it was Becky who looked surprised.  “New girl? What do ya mean? What happened ta Anderson?”

 

Conway’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You didn’t hear? Anderson died. Got killed at that big fight at VB a few weeks ago. Or maybe he bought it in the explosion. Poor old goat, he deserved way better.”

 

Becky nodded, “he did deserve better than that.  He was a good man, good Commander.” She sighed as she leaned against tha bar.  “Just… ya said ya tried ta reach one of tha JTF patrols? And tha Ghost sent ya back ta cover?”

 

“That time, I’ve spent most of my time underground. I only got here by going through the tunnels. I came up a block to the east,” as he said this Conway’s hands were shaking.

 

Becky considered that for a while.  Finally, she nodded, “okay, get comfortable.  We only move at night, so it’s goin’ ta be a few hours.  I have ta go make a call.”

 

Conway nodded. He opened a pocket on his jacket and took out a wad of cash and tossed it behind the bar. “I know you try to help people here, that should help you do it. And...thanks...Agent.”

 

Becky’s eyebrows furrowed.  “Agent? What makes ya think I’m an Agent?”

 

Conway furrowed his own brow as he nodded at the watch on Becky’s wrist.

 

Becky followed his gaze and rolled her eyes.  “Fergot I was wearin' that.” She picked up her radio and walked towards the kitchen.  “Don’t move. Help yerself ta tha alcohol.”

 

“Thank you!” Conway called after her.

 

\----------

 

Interesting...very interesting.

 

Sasha had seen Lynch’s bar, Tearmann, before but only as part of her surveillance of the other woman. This was the first time she’d ever studied it very closely and it was proving to be a gold mine for her file on the other Agent. 

 

It seemed that Lynch ran a sort of waystation out of the bar for people seeking aide. This fit with her robin hood sensibilities but also suggested a means through which Sasha might infiltrate the location. She filed this away as she continued to aim her listening device toward the window of the bar. 

 

As she lay there she found her estimation of Lynch to be sinking with each passing second. Quite apart from how pathetically obvious the bar’s defenses were, they didn’t even include anything designed to foil electronic eavesdropping. Even a radio turned on to a high volume would have done that. Perhaps Sasha would simply enter the place and take something from Lynch one day as a lesson in caution.

 

As she listened to the end of Conway’s pathetic mewling Sasha felt her lip curl. Was this really the man who had eluded her? Perhaps she needed to double her present training regimen. It was already at an intensity that would likely kill some people, but it clearly wasn’t enough. You didn’t remain the apex predator in any environment without work.

 

She looked down to confirm that her digital recorder was still running as she heard Lynch excuse herself. It occurred to Sasha that simply taking Conway here might suit her needs but she discarded this thought after a few moments. It would send a message to Straight Fire, but not her other intended target. Patience was the key now.

 

And if things didn’t progress as she had been hoping she had other contingencies. Mainly, the rifle slung around her shoulder…

 

But there was always the bomb.

 

\----------

 

Becky sighed as she sat herself up on one of the counters.  She stared down at the radio in her hands. She had sworn to herself that she would do everything she could to help the people of this city.  And she had learned early on that working with the JTF, answering to Anderson took her away from providing help to the ones who needed it most. So it had been months since she had made contact with anyone at the JTF. 

 

But if the Ghost had missed Conway, even if it was only by a few inches, it meant there was a bigger plan at play.  One that Becky wouldn’t be able to figure out on her own, but it didn’t mean that the Ghost wasn’t following one. That meant that Becky would need all the help she could get in delivering Conway to safety.  

 

Becky switched over her radio to a frequency she knew that the JTF monitored.  “Agent Lynch requesting ta speak to tha Commander.”

  
  
There was a decent pause before a female voice came back.  _“Repeat?”_ _  
__  
_

Becky rolled her eyes and tried again.  “This is Agent Lynch requestin’ ta speak with tha Commander.”

 

_“Ummm one second, please.”_

 

Becky sighed and started to swing her feet back and forth idly as she waited.  It took approximately two minutes before there was a muffled crash on the other end of the radio, which was odd unless the person on the other end fell while holding down the transmit button.  

 

 _“Shit…  This is… this is Commander Flair….”_ the voice that floated through the radio sounded winded like she had run to get to the radio.

 

Becky looked at the radio in slight confusion before she shook her head and answered.  “Aye, Commander. This is Agent Lynch and I’ve got a bit of a problem.”  
  


_“Agent Lynch, I have been trying to get in touch with you for a while.”_

 

“Haven’t been lookin’ very hard, have ya lass?  Ain’t like I’ve been tryin’ ta hide.”

  
There was a pause.  _“I guess I could’ve been looking harder.  Now, you mentioned a problem?”_

 

“I ‘ave an Agent Conway ‘ere in my hideout, says he’s bein’ hunted by tha Ghost.  I can get him to ya, but I’m requestin’ ta use tha subway tunnels ta get him there.”  
  


_“I can’t allow you to do that, Agent.”_

 

“And why not?” Becky asked as she tried to remain professional with this new Commander.

 

 _“There’s been a lot going on while you’ve been AWOL.  For safety reasons, everyone must enter and exit through the main gate._ ”

 

Becky shook her head.  “I know there’s a door in at least one station that’s controlled by my node.  I can just use that. We can both use that one ta get in.”  
  


_“That’s just something I can’t risk right now.  I don’t know you and I don’t know Conway. I know you’re both on my roster, but I don’t know either of you.  Therefore, you will use the front gate.”_

 

Becky took a second to calm down.  “I don’t think yer hearin’ me Commander.  He’s bein’ chased by tha Ghost. And she missed him at one point.  That means she’s got somethin’ bigger planned fer him. Usin’ tha subway tunnels will throw her off her game.”  
  


Another pause.  _“And I don’t think you’re hearing me, Agent.  You will use the front gate, and only the front gate.”_

 

“We need ta take her rifle out of the equation!  And ta do that, we need ta be underground tha whole way!” Becky protested. 

 

_“I can’t allow you to do that.  I understand what I’m asking you to do here, but there is a reason for this… a reason I will explain once you two are here.”_

 

Becky sighed as she hung her head.  “Yer signin’ his death certificate, I hope ya know that.  Can ya at least get me some smoke and netting for cover?”

  
  
A brief pause before what sounded like a sigh.  _“Seems like a little bit of overkill, but I can provide the smoke and counter snipers.  That is the best I can do for you right now._ ”

 

“Guess I’ll have ta make it work then, won’t I?”  Becky growled.

 

_“Yes, you will.  When should we expect you?”_

 

“Tonight.  I’m goin’ ta need tha cover of the night since you’ve been less than helpful.”

 

The voice at the end of the radio became cold and more clipped than it had been previously.  _“I will see you then.”_

 

Becky turned the radio off and put her head in her hands.  “What a bleedin’ gowl.”  

 

She let the silence settle for a minute to try and clear her mind.  After a few minutes, she got up and went back into the bar to check on Conway and start to put together a plan to get him to the JTF in one piece.

  
  


\----------

 

Sasha smirked to herself as she worked. Things were going according to plan.

 

Conway had run to Lynch and Lynch had run to the JTF. Now, when Sasha killed Conway, both parties would receive her message loud and clear. But for it to be as effective as it could be, she needed to do something spectacular. Something that no one who saw it would be likely to forget. Which was why she was currently lashing a wooden palette into place atop a billboard.

 

The shot she was contemplating would be difficult, even for her. The JTF regularly swept through the buildings surrounding their HQ to make sure no one had taken up residence in them. Someone, Sasha assumed it had been Anderson, had taken the precaution of spray painting almost all the windows black. They would be useless to her as a shooting position. The roofs all had senteries stationed atop them and, no doubt, several kinds of electronic surveillance. 

 

The nearest buildings that might serve as shooting positions were all too low for Sasha to see her target over whatever obstructions the JTF would move into place to block her view. Sasha also thought it likely that these would be swept at random intervals. It was a thoroughly professional anti-sniper security system. 

 

So, Sasha was over five stories up and over two miles away. The billboard was so high that the wind would be a serious factor in her shot. But it allowed her a clear view of her killing field. Many months ago Sasha had taken the precaution of placing micro cameras in the street lights lining the approach to the JTF so she would have a clear view of the area even if they used smoke. 

 

All that was left for her to do was to make a shot that could very well break the former world record of 3,871 yards...simple.

 

\----------

 

Becky slid her magazine out and checked it one last time before she slapped it back home.  She looked over at Conway. “Ya ready? This ain’t goin ta be an easy run. Ya remember tha plan?”

 

“I do, I’m ready, we got this…” Conway answered as he bounced on the balls of his feet. He was clutching the rifle that Becky had loaned him as though it were the last bit of wreckage and he was lost at sea.

 

Becky nodded as she walked to the stairs to her basement.  “Relax a little fer me.  We’re goin ta use tha tunnels fer most of the trip and only be above ground fer a few blocks.  Tha Ghost is probably still waitin’ outside tha bar fer us, so we’ll give her tha slip.”

  
Becky waited until Conway was heading to the basement before she set the defenses of the bar and then closed the door behind them.  She took the lead from Conway once they were in the basement and started making her way through the old prohibition tunnels that ran underneath her bar and then into the underbelly of the city.  

 

They moved quickly and efficiently in silence for all of three minutes before Becky cleared her throat.  “So ya have no idea why tha Ghost is huntin’ ya?”

 

“Near as I can tell...she’s been hitting all of us who work along the river. I don’t know why but I’ve heard that anyone along it or moving toward city hall winds up dead.”

 

Becky hummed in acknowledgment while she thought about it for a few seconds.  “That doesn’t sound right. If she were just huntin’ Agents, then I’d have been dead a long time ago.  And tha river… that ain’t part of her territory. Ya sure someone ain’t doin’ somethin’ they ain’t supposed ta be?”

 

Conway shrugged. “Do I have to cut deals that I wouldn’t have in the corps to keep myself stocked, yeah. I won’t lie about that. But I do it so I can keep myself out there and fighting. As for her territory, didn’t you hear about the agents who got popped way up north and that one closer to Indiana?”

 

Becky hesitated.  “How far north?”

 

“I heard Evanston, poor bastards were working with survivors.”

 

“I ain’t callin’ you a liar, but that sounds a little far, even fer her.  As far as I’ve been able ta tell, she’s stayed relatively close ta downtown,” Becky said as she made a face that she was considering both sides of the argument.

 

“Look, Agent, if you are asking if I’m a good guy? I’m not. I don’t think anyone is anymore. But I’m trying to do some good things. Just like you. And if you want, I’ll come work for you after this or do whatever you need me to. I owe you a big one,” Conway said this with the appearance of perfect sincerity.

 

Becky shook her head.  “I wasn’t callin’ you or yer work inta question, Conway.  I’m just tryin’ ta figure out what her angle is. Tha Ghost is always workin’ an angle, and if I can figure out what it is before we get ta tha JTF, it’ll be easier fer us ta make those last few blocks.”

 

Conway looked at her in surprise. “Isn’t it obvious?”

 

“Ah…. no.  Sorry lad, but it ain’t,” Becky answered as she shrugged.

 

“What better way to not only show you’re the biggest badass in the city but also to distract from whatever shit she has going on on the side?”

 

Becky scoffed, “she’s just one person.  Yer actin’ like she can be in three places at once.”

 

“I know she can’t but...it seems like she can sometimes. You’ve seen some of the Hoodini shit she pulls off…” Conway sounded profoundly disturbed as he said this and clutched his borrowed weapon more tightly.

 

Becky nodded, “aye, it does seem like that, doesn’t it?  Wonder how she does that…” Becky trailed off, sounding almost wistful.

 

Conway shot a sideways glance over at Becky. “So...if you don’t mind me asking...how did you beat her?”

 

“I ah… I didn’t beat her.  She let me leave,” Becky answered quietly.  

 

“She...what?” Conway looked flabbergasted at this news.

 

Becky looked away from him in embarrassment, “I… I tried ta stop her, but she had other plans.  I’m just a plaything fer her ta toy with when it tickles her fancy.”

 

Conway was looking as though he was worried he might have trusted his life to the wrong person, but he shook his head. “She’s one fucked up person, playing with other people like she does. It’s one thing to take someone down, but who makes them dance first just for fun?”

 

“She does, apparently.  Said she had a plan fer me, but I think it’s just her draggin’ me along.”  She looked over at him and smiled. “Relax, would ya? She ain’t likely ta take a shot with me standin’ there.  Can’t risk hittin’ her favorite toy.”

 

Conway was still looking troubled, but then he brightened. “And I suppose you did show that bitch in the end. You took down that condo and kicked those Demons out of downtown. I saw your mark go up afterward.”

 

Becky wrestled with how honest to be with him.  “Yeah, I sure did. Knew it was somethin’ that had ta be done.  Just doin’ what I could ta help tha people of downtown.”

  
  


\-----------

 

Sasha knew she would get one shot to take Conway before he either vanished or got covered up. Just one. This was how she preferred to operate.

 

She’d take painstaking care with her spotting, even brought her own personal invention, a miniature weather balloon, to make sure she had exact atmospheric conditions. As it turned out, they were favorable. She had a nice tailwind and very little humidity. She’d even taken the precaution of using one of her very few personally designed ‘soaring’ rounds. These were bullets that she’d modified to deploy tiny flaps as they left the barrel. She estimated they would gain her a further fifty yards in range. 

 

Of course, she was shooting from a less than ideal position so she’d had to account for that as well. After lashing her shipping palette into place atop the billboard, she’d erected a sort of windbreak to one side. It wouldn’t last for very long but it would be enough to buy her the time for a single shot. Provided that Lynch didn’t dawdle. 

 

It seemed most probable that her prey had chosen to move underground to the JTF. A sensible precaution but Sasha was counting on Flair’s caution to prevent Lynch from seeing this through to its logical end. If her opponents were smart, they would just take Conway in underground. But her early reads on Charlotte Flair told Sasha that she was almost hidebound to procedure. Sasha guessed this was the woman’s way of trying to assert control over her situation, but this hardly mattered.

 

What mattered was that, if all want to plan, Lynch and Conway would be forced to surface for a short space just in front of the main gate. Two adults could cover the distance in a few moments so Sasha would need to be ready. Any hesitation would blow the game. Which was why she’d been lying prone for over two hours now, focusing on nothing but her breathing and her target area.

 

A spider waiting for her prey.

 

\----------

 

Becky poked her head out of the tunnel, her eyes scanning the area around her looking for a sniper’s roost.  The problem was they were in a city with plenty of tall buildings that could provide a good location for the Ghost to set up and wait.  

 

She waved Conway forward as they started moving towards the JTF Headquarters.  “Lynch ta Commander Flair.”

 

_“This is Flair, go ahead.”_

 

Becky started to pick up their pace as they moved closer to the gate.  “We’re about five minutes out. Are tha countermeasures in place?”  
  


Becky could almost hear the eye roll through the radio.  “ _Yes, though I still think it’s a little overkill._ ”

 

Becky moved them to another building and held them up to search the area.  “Don’t really care what ya think. Just have them ready.”

 

“ _They’re ready.  And we’ll be waiting for your arrival._ ”

 

Becky nodded to herself as she put her radio back on her belt and kept moving towards the gate. They were about two hundred meters away and getting closer.  Becky waited until the were a little closer and then popped some smoke to cover their movements.  

 

She waited until the smoke had covered the street and then moved until she was standing right outside the gate.  They were stopped by a few JTF members. 

 

“Put your hands up, and relinquish your weapons.”

  
  
Becky glared at them.  “I have Conway here and we need ta get inside!  Tha Ghost is huntin’ him and can make this shot!  Now let us in!”

 

The JTF members kept their rifles pointed at them.  “Hand over your weapons, now!”

 

\----------

 

Over two miles away and seventy feet up from where Conway was now standing, Sasha Banks smiled. But she suppressed this quickly. Even the slight change in her position caused by the tightening of her facial muscles forced her to readjust. That was how precise this shot had to be.  She didn’t allow herself to recheck the readouts in her scope, she knew they were perfect. The time was now.

 

Exhaling slowly she began to add pressure to her trigger.

 

\----------

 

“I said, drop your fucking weapons!”

 

Becky stepped towards the guards, her nostrils flaring in anger.  “And I don’t think yer listenin'! The Ghost is huntin’ this man! Let us in and once we’re out of sniper range, we’ll comply!”

 

The guard shoved his rifle right into Becky’s face.  “No fucking way! Get on your knees and toss your guns to the side!”

 

Conway moved so he was standing behind Becky.  He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, slowly turning her so he could see her face.  “Easy, Lynch. I think —“

 

Everything Conway was about to say was cut off when his face exploded, his blood and brain matter covering Becky from head to toe.  

 

The sickening crack of Conway’s skull splintering outward broke the silence that had settled between Becky and the guards.  The body crumpled to the ground as all hell broke loose.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are so freaking amazing, I can't even begin to explain how grateful we are to you all. Your love and support of this story continues to go above and beyond what we could have ever expected. Now that the horsewomen are all seemingly coming together in one way or another, we would love to hear if those dynamics are what you expected, or what you are thinking might happen. Your kudos, comments, and hits keep us writing more and more ideas for this story. We would love to hear what you think!


	42. You ain't all that special - Becky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Immediately after Conway's death, Becky is forced to come face to face with the Joint Commander of the JTF and the Division Agents. Too bad for Becky, she's a pompous idiot who doesn't know shit....

Becky stood there for a second, complete shock echoing numbly through her body.  She had felt the warm, wet splatter of Conway’s blood hit her face, neck, and shoulders, but it hadn’t quite registered yet that he had been shot and was now dead.  All that she knew was that one second he was standing there, trying to get her to calm down so they could get inside the JTF, and the next… his head had exploded in front of her, and she was now covered in parts of him.  

 

It wasn’t the fact that he was now dead that shocked her.  That was something that she was used to at this point. In her line of work, death was a constant companion, something that she dealt with nearly daily.  So no, it wasn’t the death, or the brutality of it, or even that the Ghost had managed to make this shot. No, the reason she was shocked was that she had made a promise to this one.  

 

A stupid, fucked up promise.

 

One she knew she probably couldn’t keep when she made it.  Especially since it was the Ghost hunting this man. In her past experiences with the other woman, Becky understood that she was only alive because the Ghost had deemed it so.  The Ghost constantly toyed with her, tempted her, moved her around to achieve her fucked up goals. And the Ghost never missed. So if she wanted this man dead, he was going to die and it was going to be in a very flashy, attention-grabbing way.  It would be in a way that would prove once again that Becky had no control when it came to their interactions, that she was just a puppet on that bitch’s string… dancing only when the Ghost had decided when and where she would perform.

 

But when she looked into Conway’s eyes, she saw the fear that she had been feeling for so long when it came to dealing with the Ghost.  She knew that absolute terror that was coursing through that poor man’s veins. Becky had just been lucky in being deemed worthy enough to be used as a tool by the Ghost.  When she saw that fear, she blurted out the promise that she would get him to the JTF.  

 

It was dumb, and impulsive, and rash.  But she couldn’t control herself. She needed to reassure this man that he wasn’t alone.  That he wasn’t the only one the Ghost had been stalking. She needed to reassure him that he wasn’t alone in this twisted fucked up game the Ghost seemed to be playing with other Agents. 

 

And granted, she hadn’t known Conway before this morning, but he was a member of the same team, a member of her extended family in a way.  And the Ghost… someone who should have been on the same side as them… took him away from the Division ranks with just the squeeze of a trigger.  

 

Becky just stared at the body of what had once been Conway.  Without turning, she calmly told the JTF members to get inside the gates.  “I’ll get him. You get inside.”

 

“Where did that shot come from!?”

 

“Did anyone see where the sniper is!?”

  
  
Becky turned and leveled a nearly homicidal glare at the incompetent guards that were still standing there.  “Are you lot deaf!? I said get inside! The Ghost is here, and she’s willin’ ta shoot anythin’ that moves! Go!”

 

When the guards finally scrambled inside the gates, Becky turned slowly once again to where the shot had come from.  She knew it was unlikely that the Ghost was still there and watching, but she had to get some things off of her chest.  “Tá súil agam go bhfuil tú sásta, tú fucking maggot.  I swear a craiceann tú beo an chéad uair eile a fheiceann tú mé. Beidh sé a bheith chomh dona, go mbainfidh tú a bheith ag begging dom i leith báis! Rith. Anois. Cé is féidir leat fós.”   

 

Becky waited there, her eyes narrowed in defiance at the  _ one _ spot that the Ghost would have been able to make the shot from.  When she didn’t get a response, she held her arms out wide. “Why don’t you just do it!?  Just take yer fuckin’ shot, ya fuckin’ coward! No!? Haven’t had enough fun toyin’ with me yet!?  Fook you!”

 

Becky stood there for another few seconds with her hands spread wide and her face showing exactly how over this whole situation she was.  She finally sighed and hung her head, turned and grabbed Conway’s wrists. She began pulling the body behind the gate, stopping only when she was a few feet inside and she heard a rather commanding voice telling her to stop.

 

Becky dropped Conway and turned to look at the voice, finding herself staring up at a tall blonde woman who oozed authority and rule-following.  She cocked an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. “Excuse tha fook outta me?”

 

Charlotte kept her pistol pointed at the space between them in a low ready position.  “I told you to stop what you were doing. And now that I have your attention, hand over your weapons.”

 

“Hand over my…!?  Are you insane!? Why would I hand over my weapons!?”

 

“Because that’s the protocol for all people entering headquarters for the first time.”   
  


Becky just stared at the woman standing in front of her, her brain trying desperately to catch up with what was happening.  “Who tha fook are you? Don’t ya know that tha Ghost is out there? It ain’t safe fer you lot ta be standin’ round in tha open like this!”

 

Charlotte indicated the area around them with a raised eyebrow.  “Most everyone is inside, like they do during any sort of attack on the gate, let alone one from an alleged sniper.  And as soon as you hand over your weapons, you and I can head inside to discuss what in the fuck just happened.”

 

Becky huffed out an angry breath and started to march towards the building, shouldering roughly past Charlotte as she went.  “I’ll give ya my weapons once we’re inside and out of visual range of her scope. I tried ta tell you lot what you all were up against, but yer Commander didn’t listen!  What tha fuck just happened, ya fuckin’ blonde boulder is tha Ghost.  T'ats what fookin' happened right in front of yer precious headquarters!   And if yer girl Flair had listened ta me, Conway might still be alive.”

 

Charlotte blinked after the fiery redhead and scrambled to keep up.  “Wait a minute, this was the Ghost?”

 

Becky made it inside the door and willingly gave up her rifle and sidearm.  “That’s what I’ve been sayin’! Do none of you eejits listen!? Let me spell it out for you.”  

 

She approached Charlotte so she was standing right in front of her.  She pointed at the blonde and poked her in the chest with each word. “This.”  _ poke. _ “Was.”  _ poke. _ “Tha.”  _ poke. “ _ Ghost.”

 

Charlotte growled and grabbed Becky’s finger.  “You would do well to mind yourself, Agent Lynch.  Poke me again, and I will have this finger.”

 

Becky scoffed and pulled her hand back.  “Oh yeah? And what would yer Commander think of that?  She said she’s been lookin’ fer me, and if I’m honest I’ve got some choice words fer her too.”

 

Charlotte, took a steadying breath to keep herself from tearing into this insufferable woman.  “And she is willing to meet with you. But if you want to go clean up a bit, she will be waiting for you in Anderson’s old office.  I assume you know where that is?”

 

Becky’s eyes narrowed.  “Aye, I know where everythin’ is.  Just ‘cause I haven’t been round 'ere doesn’t mean I don’t know my way.  Tell her I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

 

Charlotte nodded.  “Of course. I’ll go brief her on what’s happening.”

 

Becky rolled her eyes and shouldered her way past Charlotte again, making sure to put her weight behind it this time.  “Fine. Do whatever ya want. Lord knows you were less than helpful out front, and poor Conway paid fer it.”

 

With that, Becky stormed off towards the showers so she could wipe the blood and brain matter off of her the best she could.

  
  


____________

  
  


Becky had managed to wrangle up a fresh shirt from one of the JTF members and had gotten as much of the blood off of her jacket as she could.  She was tying her freshly washed hair into a braid as she approached the Commander’s office. Her trip to the showers had given her a chance to calm down slightly.  She still had some things she needed to say to Flair, but she felt calm enough now to actually talk to her respectfully. 

 

She knocked on the closed door and waited for the Commander to tell her to come in.  Becky pushed open the door and froze in her spot, her anger flaring back to the surface in record time.  “What tha fook are you playin’ at!?”

 

Charlotte sat behind her desk, her head buried in paperwork that was needed now that Conway was dead.  When Agent Lynch had gone to get herself clean, Charlotte had taken the body, stripped it of anything useful, then handed it off to the group that was in charge of burning the remains.  Once that was done, she had gone back to her office to update her files and make it official that Conway was dead. His watch sat front and center on her desk.

 

“Playing at?  I’m not playing at anything, Agent Lynch.  Please, close the door behind you and have a seat,” she said as she indicated one of the chairs in front of her desk.

 

“Oh I’ll close tha door, but I ain’t sittin’.”  Becky paused just long enough to close the door and then turned back to Charlotte.  “Ya didn’t feel tha need ta tell me that you’re Commander Flair?”

 

Charlotte forced herself to remain calm at the anger that was pouring off of Agent Lynch.  “You made an assumption and we were a little short on time, so I let you keep that assumption.  Now that we are sure the Ghost, or whoever took that shot, is no longer shooting at us, we have some time to discuss what the fuck happened out there.”

 

Becky slammed her hands down on Charlotte’s desk.  “What tha fook happened was that ya deliberately ignored me when I tol’ ya that tha Ghost could get Conway, no matter where we were.  I needed tha Subway, and ya denied me that… denied t’at poor Agent t’at, and now he’s dead. Right there on yer doorstep, under countermeasures t’at you said were overkill.  What happened was t'at you ignored tha intel I had about tha Ghost to satisfy yer fookin’ ego.”

  
  
“My ego?” Charlotte interrupted with a furrowed brow.  “At what point did my ego come in to play?”

 

“When ya tol’ me I had ta use tha front gate because ya didn’t know me!”

 

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed.  “That wasn’t ego, Agent Lynch.  That was, and still is, fact. I do not know you, so why should I trust you?  You’re running around out there with your node turned off doing god knows what.  And what? I’m just supposed to risk the lives and safety of everyone here because you finally showed up and demanded it?  I don’t think so. That’s not how this works.”

 

“Not how…?  Are ya kiddin’ me right now?  I’m a goddamn Division Agent, out there helpin’ tha people o’this city while you sit ‘ere and move yer pieces around on yer little board.  And if I say somethin’ is happenin’ out there, ya should’a listened ta me! I was tellin’ ya t’at tha Ghost was goin’ ta kill Conway! What more did ya need!?”

 

Charlotte did not look amused.  “I’m still not sure this was the Ghost.  There’s no way that a sniper could take a shot at our front gate.  We have countermeasures in place at all of the possible sniper roosts in the area.”

 

Becky worked her jaw back and forth a few times before she stormed over to the map that was splayed out on the table nearby.  She picked up a marker and circled the location of the only place that someone could have taken that shot from. “There’s a billboard ‘ere that has a direct line of sight ta tha front door to yer precious headquarters.”

 

Charlotte got up and looked at the location that Becky had marked.  “A billboard? There?” She started to shake her head as she looked at Becky.  “That’s not possible.”

 

“An’ why not?” Becky demanded with her arms crossed over her chest. 

 

“For starters, that’s over two miles away from here.  No one can make that shot.”

 

“Tha Ghost can!  Why is no one listenin’ to me?  She’s that good! A pain in me ass and someone I entirely intend ta kill.  But she’s good, maybe tha best I ever seen. She can, and did make that shot.  And Conway paid tha price fer yer ignorance.”

 

Charlotte paused.  “She? You’ve met the Ghost?”

 

Becky rolled her eyes and started pacing around the room.  “Aye, she’s been toyin’ with me fer weeks. Besides, it’s not like you don’t know this, so drop tha dumb blonde act, it doesn’t suit ya.”

 

Charlotte’s brow furrowed again.   “Why would I know who the Ghost is?  I’ve never met them.”

 

Becky scoffed.  “She’s one of yers!”   
  


“What?”

 

“Are ya that thick!?  Do I have ta spell everythin’ out fer ya?  She’s a fookin’ Agent! She’s one of yers! And she’s out ‘ere huntin’ down other Agents like we’re nothin’ but cattle t’at needs slaughterin’.”

 

“Wait,” Charlotte tried to reach out and stop Becky’s pacing but pulled her hand back when Lynch growled at her.  “What do you mean she’s an Agent?”

 

“Are ya deaf too!?  Fook, maybe ya are dumber than ya look.  She’s got a node. She’s a fookin’ Rogue Agent.”

 

“Like you?”

 

Becky stopped short in her pacing.  She pivoted and glared at Charlotte who was standing there with her arms crossed over her chest and an unreadable expression on her face.   “Excuse me?”

 

Charlotte shrugged, “it’s all I can assume at this point.  You wanted me to just believe that you were bringing Conway here, but you have your node off and you’re off doing your own thing.  Doesn’t that make you a rogue Agent as well?”

 

Becky stalked towards Charlotte again, her finger back up and pointing.  “I ain’t nothin’ like her, and you’d best remember that. I’m out here tryin’ ta help people, and she’s killin’ ‘em.  She’s doin’ her best ta make sure I can’t keep doin’ my work, even though she just won't kill me fer some reason. We ain’t nothin’ alike.  Compare us again and I will have ta take matters inta my own hands.”

 

Charlotte cocked an eyebrow and oozed smugness.  “Oh, I’d argue that you two are more alike than you think, Straight Fire.”

 

This made Becky still as she glared at Charlotte again.  “What?”

 

“You and the Ghost.  Are you the one who’s deaf now?  Both of you are rogue Agents who have created personas to help you get your work done more efficiently.  Two sides of the same coin, if you ask me: Straight Fire and the Ghost.”

 

Becky scoffed to try and cover the fact that Charlotte had guessed her identity rather quickly.  She had obviously underestimated the taller woman, and she would make sure that she wouldn’t do that again.  “I ain’t this person yer sayin’ I am. If you t’ink I’m them, then yer dafter than I t’ought.”

 

Charlotte hummed in thought.  “Maybe I am, but all of the descriptions I’ve gotten about Straight Fire match you almost to the T.  Plus Straight Fire and the Ghost seem to be at war with each other, which is what sounds like is happening with you and the Ghost. I might be wrong, but I’m willing to wager I’m not.”

 

Becky rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.  “If ya say so. I can’t stop you from wastin’ yer time chasin’ a pipedream.  But I  _ can  _ get back to work.  So, yer Majesty, if there ain’t nothing’ else, I’ll be on my way.”

 

Charlotte reached out a hand to stop the other woman.  “How will I contact you if I need to in the future?”

 

Becky’s eyes narrowed and her shoulders raised slightly in a more aggressive stance.  “After that shite ya pulled with Conway and not believing me, ya don’t. I’m doin’ just fine on me own, and I don’t need you or tha JTF.  I won’t be back ‘ere. I don’t ever want ta see tha likes of you again.”

 

Charlotte watched the other woman storm out of her office.  She waited until Becky was out of eyesight before she slumped back down into her chair.  So far she was zero for two in recruiting the three women Arn left for her to find. Which, in Charlotte’s mind meant her odds of winning this war just drastically decreased.  

  
  


\------------

  
  


Becky sighed and moved along the road carefully, even hunting Demons wasn’t bringing her mind back to a manageable level like it usually did.  She had already taken out three nests and collected ten more JTF name tapes for Vega to pick up. Usually doing this type of work brought her calm back to the surface.  The methodical chaos she created cleared her mind and let her work through whatever was plaguing her mind at that moment. 

 

Either the Demons she was facing were subpar in their abilities or her heart wasn’t in it.  Or maybe it was both. Regardless, every time she was done clearing out a nest, her mind snapped right back to her earlier confrontation with Commander Flair.  

 

She was still in her head about losing Conway, and she would be blaming herself for that fuck up for a while.  Though it wasn’t all on her shoulders. That blonde bitch had no idea what she was doing and with her in control, the JTF was going to fail.  It wouldn’t have been difficult for her to set up a group to meet her in the Subway tunnels after they used the Division entrance. But she was so concerned about her rule-following that she hadn’t been able to see the benefit to Becky’s plan.  

 

The chokehold that fucking gombeen had on her rules, regulations, and protocols had gotten Conway killed.  Not to mention it turned Becky into a fucking liar and made her look like an asshole standing there with mud on her face when she was  _ once again _ standing after an attack from the Ghost.  

 

She had wanted to punch the smug look off that blonde idiot’s face before she left.  But the few minutes she spent with her, led her to believe that the Commander would have locked her up out of spite.  Nothing about Flair had made her believe that she would understand handling things in the locker room… not when there was a rule or regulation for her to follow.  And Becky had  _ zero _ respect for leaders like that.  

 

Cú barked from further down the block snapping Becky out of her thought process.  She stared at where she was, and what Cú was barking at. Kacy and Father Michaels were standing outside of the church talking to a group of people.  Becky slowly approached and smiled when the shorter doctor smiled and waved. 

 

“Hey, Becky.  What’s up? We’re not due for another trade for a few days,” Kacy asked as she approached the redhead.  

 

Becky shrugged, “just out patrollin’ and could use a distraction.  You got anythin’ ya need doin' around here? Anythin’ I can help with?”

 

At this point, Father Michaels had joined them and briefly pulled Becky into a hug.  “We always have things that need work. How are you with a wrench and plumbing?”

 

Becky followed them inside, “I can handle myself around them.  Most of tha work in tha bar was work done by me. What specifically needs bein’ done?”

 

“Some of our faucets are dripping and the water pressure has gone to shit,” Kacy supplied as she walked next to Becky and the Father.  

 

“Language young lady,” Father Michaels reminded her.  “Even if we don’t hold service here anymore, this is still a church and I would appreciate it if you would respect that.”

 

Becky snorted in laughter at how embarrassed Kacy looked at that moment.  “Glad to see it ain’t just me.”

 

“Maybe not, but that was tame compared to what I’ve heard come out of your mouth.”

 

Becky turned to glare at the new voice that had joined the group.  “No one asked you, old man.”

 

Ethan grinned as he walked the rest of the way towards them.  “You’re right, no one asked for my opinion, and yet…”

 

Becky sighed.  “How did this turn inta everyone gangin’ up on me?”

 

Ethan looked to Kacy and Michaels before he shrugged.  “Easy target?”

 

Becky rolled her eyes and turned to look at Kacy.  “You were sayin’ about leaky faucets and low water pressure?”

 

Kacy chuckled as she nodded her head towards the kitchen, “come on, I’ll show you.”

 

“You mind if I tag along?  I could stand to learn a little more about plumbing, if you don’t mind,” Ethan asked as he followed after them.

 

“Doesn’t bother me none,” Becky answered easily.

 

Once Kacy had shown her which faucets needed work, she had left Ethan and Becky to fix them on their own.  “So,” Becky started as she began to work on the first faucet in the kitchen. “What are you and the kid doin’ here?”

 

Ethan sat next to where Becky was laid under the sink.  “Once you told us about this place, we came here and I asked if they could use some volunteers.  I want Kayla to understand that even though the world seems to have ended, we should still be helping each other whenever we can.”

 

Becky hummed in approval as she continued to work.  “That makes sense, and is a good thing fer her ta remember.”

 

Ethan chuckled.  “I’m glad you approve.”

 

Becky rolled her eyes as she continued to work on the plumbing in front of her.  An easy silence settled between them as she worked and Ethan hummed a song that Becky had never heard before.  The silence sat a little while longer before Ethan finally cleared his throat. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or are we going to keep sitting here pretending like you aren’t pissed about something?”

 

Becky paused her work for a few seconds while she contemplated how to answer his question.  “What makes you think there’s somethin’ botherin’ me?”

 

Ethan reached over and put his hand on her knee and quickly squeezed it before he pulled it away.  “I can tell, Rebecca. You’ve been brief with your word choice and only told one joke at my expense.  Plus, you wanted to get right to work on the plumbing.”

  
  
He paused for a few seconds and then finally sighed when it was obvious that Becky wasn’t going to respond.  “I know we haven’t known each other long, but I’d like to think that we’re getting to the point of trusting each other.  I’m not going to force you to talk to me about anything, but I just want you to know that I am here to listen. I understand that you may not see me that way, that you may see me as a nuisance or someone that has just latched onto you to help his child, but I do care about your well being.”

 

Becky continued to work for a few minutes, as his words bounced around inside her head.  She toyed with them, then thought about her conversation with the Commander and let those sit for a second or two.  “I lost someone today,” she said quietly to the underside of the sink she was working on, happy that she didn’t have to be looking at Ethan to have this conversation.

 

There was a pause, one that didn’t feel empty like it was awaiting an answer from Ethan.  It felt like it was already full of the things that Becky was about to say, so he waited and continued to hum gently as if to reassure her that he was there and listening.

 

“I promised him I would keep ‘im safe, and I failed.  I brought ‘im to tha JTF and he was shot right outside tha gate...we shouldn’t ‘ave even been there.”

 

This time the pause was longer.  “Why not?” Ethan lightly prompted when it was obvious Becky wasn’t going to continue.  

 

“We should’a been underground tha whole time, but tha new Commander at the JTF?  She’s a stickler fer tha rules and refused ta let me use a special entrance ta get ‘im inside.  Said she didn’t know me, that she couldn’t trust me.”

 

“Do you know her?”

 

“I do now,” was Becky’s immediate response.  The defensiveness in that answer was obvious.  Ethan knew he had to tread lightly to get Becky to keep opening up.

 

“But did you before you took this person to the JTF?  Had you two talked before then?”

 

There was a disgruntled sigh.  “No. T’at was tha first time we talked.”

 

Ethan nodded and let the silence settle between them again briefly.  “So you’re mad at the new Commander for not letting you in a secret door, even though she’d never met you, with a person she didn’t know either?”

 

Becky slid out from under the sink.  “Why so judgmental?  Who’s side are you on?”   
  


Ethan held his hands up, “obviously yours, Rebecca.  I’m just trying to understand the situation here, that’s all.”

 

Becky glared at him for a few seconds.  “Well yeah, that’s exactly what I expected from her.”

 

“Why?”

 

An exasperated huff.  “Because I’m a Division Agent, that’s why.”

 

Ethan nodded and seemed to think that over for a few seconds.  “And all Division Agents can be trusted? None of them have ever gone rogue?”

 

Becky closed her eyes and sighed.  “No, I ain’t sayin’ that. What I am sayin’ is that she should ‘ave trusted me when I told her it wasn’t safe fer me ta use tha front door!”

 

“Because you’re Straight Fire?”

 

“Why do ya keep askin’ bloody questions?  No, she doesn’t know I’m Straight Fire! She thinks I am, but she ain’t sure yet.  And she definitely didn’t know before I got there.”

 

Ethan smiled sadly.  “I’m asking questions to help us work through what’s going on up here,” he tapped her forehead with one of his knuckles.  When she rolled her eyes, he continued. “So if she didn’t know you’re Straight Fire, and she’d never met you as a Division Agent before, why should she have just trusted you right off the bat?  She has the safety of everyone at the JTF Headquarters to worry about, doesn’t she?”

 

Becky groaned and immediately deflated.  “Why do ya gotta bring logic into it! Can’t I just be angry and blame her!?”

 

Ethan shrugged his shoulders but kept his gaze locked on the redhead.  “You absolutely can. I can’t tell you what to feel or how to feel it. Your emotions are always valid.  But, I just want to make sure that you know what you’re doing. That’s all.”

 

Becky growled slightly as she slid back under the sink.  “I do know what I’m doin’. That woman is goin’ ta get us all killed.  Better I figured it out now instead of later. Bloody muppet, t’inks she knows everythin’.”

 

Ethan closed his eyes, it had been worth a shot to try and talk some sense into the other woman.  He could see what trying to do this alone was doing to her, the toll it was taking on her both mentally and physically.  He had hoped that maybe someone at the JTF or another Division Agent would be able to take some of the burdens off of her shoulders, but that seemed unlikely now.  Especially with how her first meeting with the Joint Commander went.

 

He contemplated pushing the issue harder but decided against it.  Becky was just starting to feel comfortable around him to the point of opening up.  The last thing he wanted was for her to slam her walls back into place and truly go back to being alone.  So instead of prying further, he leaned back against the cupboard and went back to humming as Becky went back to work.

  
  


\-------------------------

  
  


Becky sat at the bar, a radio that she usually handed out as Straight Fire was sitting in front of her.  She had already carved a knot into the back of it, clearly marking it as one of her own. Now she just had to decide whether or not to send it out.  

 

The conversation she had with Ethan had struck a nerve.  On one hand, who was he to be pushing her buttons like that?  He didn’t know her or how she operated. But on the other hand, he had been making a little bit of sense.  Commander Flair did have a lot of people she had to be worried about, and it was kind of asking her to go out on a limb to trust that Becky was who she said she was.  

 

So maybe Becky had overreacted just a little bit.  But she had been angry, and appalled, and humiliated, and she simply reacted.  Sitting there, however, and going over the whole confrontation in her mind...it could be that both she and Commander Flair were in the right. 

 

Did that mean that Becky should trust the other woman with this radio?  Not only would it give her a direct line of contact with Agent Lynch, but it would also be Becky admitting that she was in fact Straight Fire.   And that was a huge step for Becky to be taking.  

 

She sighed and looked around the bar.  She had done a great job of keeping it running and stocked with supplies.  There had been a time there at the beginning where she had run completely out of ammo and had considered going to the JTF for help.  Lord knows Anderson would have given her everything she could ever possibly need.

 

But she had witnessed first hand how some of the JTF members and Division Agents were “helping” the citizens.  They had been commandeering food and medicine for the JTF, taking supplies right out of the very homes of the people they were supposed to be protecting.  There was no way that Anderson knew about all of this because that’s not the kind of man that he was. But it was still happening nonetheless.

 

So Becky decided against running to them for help.  She had managed to fight with her blunt force weapons until she got more guns.  And then she focused on ammo. And then she had learned how to craft her explosives.  

 

She clawed her way back into the game and filled the bar with everything that a desperate family could ever need.  But that was then, and now?  

 

Now Becky was getting tired.  She was tired of being the only one out here looking for supplies to help both the bar and the church stay up and running.  Maybe it was time to start trading with the JTF. Maybe it was time to start working on building that relationship into something she could use to her advantage. 

 

And what better way to start that process than to be in touch with the Joint Commander?

 

Becky sighed and stood up, grabbed the radio and slid it into a small bag that already contained the JTF name tags she acquired the other day and two notes.  One note was the GPS coordinates of the bodies of the JTF members, and the other one said:  _ This ain’t an apology - Lynch.  _

 

With that done, she took the bag and walked it a few blocks away to one of her dead drop locations with Officer Vega.  She put the bag where it needed to go and then activated her node for a few seconds until she got a message from the other woman confirming the drop by simply sending the dead drop code number over Becky’s HUD.  

 

Becky quickly turned off her node and nodded once to herself before heading back to the bar.  This decision could possibly change everything, and Becky wasn’t too sure if she could handle it.  But it was done, and now all she could do was wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well... Charlynch has finally met! I know it's not what most of you wanted probably, but I promise that we have a ton of stuff in store for these characters now that they're all finally meeting. Just be patient a little longer with us. We wanted to make sure the world and the individual characters were firmly established before we brought them all together. But it is coming! Very soon!
> 
> You are all seriously the best fandom we could be writing for. I know AP and I are constantly blown away by the amount of love you have shown this little story of ours. Every kudo, every hit, every comment...they honestly make our day. You guys are beyond the best! And a very heartfelt Happy Holidays to those who celebrate in this wonderful season. If not, well then happy hump day to you!
> 
> Irish translation: I hope you're happy, you fucking maggot. I swear to skin you alive the next time I see you. It'll be so bad, that you'll be begging me for death! Run. Now. While you still can.


	43. Alot to Think About - Bayley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bayley discovers a new threat lurking in Chicago before deciding to join the fray.

“So how did it go?” Tenille asked Bayley as she walked through the gates to the school.

 

Bayley shrugged. It was a noncommittal gesture, but she really didn’t know how it had gone. Seemingly against her will, she’d felt her anger at Charlotte Flair cooling throughout their meeting together. She’d also sensed something similar happening in the other woman. But then their conversation at the end of the trip north. 

 

How had the whole experience gone? It had certainly ended badly, but did that mean it had all been bad?

 

“Anything going on here?” Bayley asked when she was unable to think of an answer to the first question.

 

“Some of the kids got into a fight, but nothing serious.” Tenille delivered this news casually but Bayley had spent enough time around the other agent to know something else was going on. But she also knew that Tenille was a fairly private person and that she would talk about what was on her mind when she was ready and not before. All Bayley could do was wait and be ready for when the time came.

 

It was night time but the work never truly ended at the school. There was always guard duty, of course. But someone was always monitoring the radio as well and many of the adults took advantage of the night to take care of tasks they couldn’t when the kids were about. Bayley was planning to run down to the school’s loading docks to get some work in on a few of their vehicles. 

 

“You need anything?” Tenille asked as they reached the point where their paths would diverge.

 

“Nope, I’ll see you later,” Bayley said. She waited for a moment to see if Tenille would speak up but when this didn’t happen she turned and headed downstairs. 

 

Like most larger schools, this one had a place where it could receive large deliveries. It wasn’t huge but it opened into an area large enough to park two vehicles. This had become the school’s de facto mechanic shop. Or rather, it had become Bayley’s. Before she’d shown up the school’s few vehicles, which they’d ended up with mostly by accident, had simply been parked out in the parking lot. No one had known any more about taking care of cars than a few who could change their oil. 

 

Bayley was the daughter of a mechanic and the sister to two others. She wouldn’t consider herself any kind of expert, but she knew her way around an engine. And so, in the way of things at the school, this had made her their head mechanic. She didn’t have much to do since the school’s residents didn’t often travel far from the building. When she went anyplace more than a few blocks she walked. But it was winter in the upper midwest and that meant there was always some work.

 

Her current projects were a pair of pickups that she and the other school leaders hoped to turn into technicals. A technical was any civilian vehicle modified for combat usage. Bayley had encountered many in her deployments overseas. They were most commonly pickups with some kind of weapon mounted in the bed. This was the core of what Bayley was hoping to accomplish but she hoped to be able to do a little better.

 

The technicals that Bayley had seen (and often had fought) overseas had usually been armed with a machine gun or small canon. She didn’t have any of those sitting around but she did have access to a former STEM academy high school and one of its teachers. Bobby Roode had taught physics at the school and he had come to Bayley with a novel idea that just might work. Potato cannons. 

 

One of the devices was sitting off to one side of the garage at this very moment. Apparently, the seniors at the school had one been making four such cannons for a contest of some kind. It made Bayley sad to think of those kids and their hopes for the future now, but she could at least put their hard work to good use. Bayley had just barely scraped her C’s in her physics courses but she had been able to articulate to Bobby what she would need. 

 

Now, she was finishing the work of attaching a frame she had put together to the inside of one of the truck beds. If everything fit together she would be able to mount one of the potato guns on the frame where it would have a 180-degree field of fire. She’d even welded a small steel plate on the fame to provide the gunner some protection.    
  
Bayley was so intent on her that she didn’t notice her visitors until someone whistled at her. Looking up from her drill she saw that Bobby Roode was standing there with someone unexpected. Keira Hogan was the girl that Bayley and Tenille had captured at the supermarket. She had asked to be taken back to the school, and as a rule, the school tried to help anyone who asked for it. But that didn’t mean they were ready to trust rashly either. She had, after all, been a kind of pseudo-demon.

 

So she was on probation with the school. She was allowed to live in the equipment shed, outside the walls where she got food, water, and a warm(ish) place to sleep. Everyone at the school worked, and she would have to prove her value if she wanted to stay permanently. But she was always supervised when she did and thus far had only been trusted with menial tasks.

 

Despite this, Bayley had never heard her complain in the few times they’d been in contact. Keira really seemed to be happy to be at the school. She’d told Bayley and Tenille that she’d fallen in with her previous group mostly due to circumstance. Bayley wasn’t going to take her at her word initially, but it looked as though this might be true. Keira didn’t seem like the type who would be out marauding.

 

“Good evening, Agent Martinez,” Bobby said.

 

“Mr. Roode…” Bayley said with a nod.

 

“Ms. Hogan tells me that she has some expertise in working with cars, so I thought you might be able to use her down here,” Bobby explained. Bayley turned her gaze on the other woman who met it confidently. 

 

“OK, I could always use some help,” Bayley finally said with a shrug. “I’m almost done for the night but how about tomorrow we can all work on mounting the gun on this thing?”

 

“Gun?” Keira asked, sounding confused.

 

“We’re putting a potato gun on the back of these trucks. Hopefully, it will give us a big punch to throw when we need it,” Bayley explained.

 

“But...they shoot potatoes?” Keira asked.

 

“These aren’t just any old potato gun…” Bobby said with a grin “...Let me tell you about them.” Bayley rolled her eyes and started to pack up her tools. Roode was a very admirable man in many ways, but get him talking about anything to do with science and he could go forever. He was especially proud of these potato guns and Bayley suspected Kiera was in for an earful. She waited for them to leave the garage before she finished closing it up for the night.

 

For once, Bayley got a full night’s sleep that night. When her eyes opened the next day she felt better than she had in...weeks. Taking a moment to stretch, Bayley was thinking about what her day still held when there was a knock on her door. 

 

“Agent Martinez?” A voice called through the door. Bayley simply stood up and walked over to the door. She wasn’t particularly concerned for her modesty and in any case, she was wearing her sports bra and shorts.

 

“Yes?” she asked as she pulled open the door. She found herself looking at one of the school’s older teenage boys who, seeing what she was wearing, was furiously looking in any other direction but at Bayley.

 

“I...umm...Mr. Roode and Ms. Neidhart-” he started to say.

 

“They’re breasts, Jackson, look at them or don’t,” Bayley said with a sigh that covered a certain amount of bemusement.

 

“They want to see you when you’re ready,” Jackson finally managed to say.

 

“Where are they?”

 

“The map room.”

 

Bayley shut the door and yawned. Her ‘room’ was a former janitorial closet into which someone had crammed a cot. It wasn’t roomy but she fortunate in that she was one of the few people who had their own sink. She used it now to clean up before getting dressed and then crossing the hall to the bathroom. It was much fresher feeling Bayley that appeared in the map room fifteen minutes after she had awoken.

 

“Good morning,” Nattie said as Bayley entered. This made Bayley stop short for a moment. Thus far, Nattie had refused to speak to her at all aside from work-related matters. This greeting caught Bayley off guard, but she recovered quickly. 

 

“Morning...so, what’s up?” she asked.

 

“We have a group of traders at the gates. We’re going to see if we can’t do some business with them and we need your professional eye on any weapons they have.”

 

“Ah, OK.” 

 

As much as it sounded like something out of the middle ages, traveling traders had become a part of life in Chicago. They were mostly scavengers who moved between the various small settlements trading whatever they found. They ran the gamut from mostly honest people just trying to survive to near pirates who did terrible things for their ‘merchandise’. The school didn’t do business with those who were clearly in the latter camp, but it was sometimes tricky to read the others. This was why Bayley made sure that most of her buddies were on the walls when she and the other school leaders stepped through the gates to meet the traders. 

 

This group consisted of a short black man with a shaved head and an enormous man with spikey brown hair and pale skin that seemed to be stretched far too tightly over his skin. They were standing in front of what used to be a U-haul truck, though its sides had been heavily decorated. Someone, Bayley assumed the two men, had painted a large block of pink onto the truck and then used spray paint to spell the words: ‘Rush Inc’.

 

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen!” the shorter man said to them as soon as they appeared. He had a smile that seemed to fill the bottom half of his face and Bayley wondered how he managed to keep his teeth so white. He was fairly oozing bon ami and seemed truly delighted to see the school delegation. His companion just loomed by the truck with his arms folded. Bayley got the impression of a used car salesman and his bodyguard.

 

When no one from the school answered right away, the short man passed smoothly by it. “Today is your lucky day my friends. I’m Leo Rush and I’d like to offer YOU an EXCLUSIVE look at my new merchandise. No one else has seen this yet!”

 

“And what do you want in exchange?” Molly Holly, one of the unofficial leaders of the school asked.

 

“Oh, not much not much, we’ll work something out I’m sure. Why don’t ya’ll take a look back here and then we can talk about that. Can I get anyone a drink?” Rush asked, every inch the jovial host.

 

“No thanks,” Bayley said as she ushered her group toward the truck, keeping a wary eye on the giant. He still hadn’t said anything or even moved, but Bayley was still wary about him. They reached the back of the truck without any incident, however. Rush snapped his fingers then and the big man clomped back to join him before opening the rear door.  

 

“This is Dominick, my associate,” Rush said, noticing Bayley’s eyes on the big man.

 

“Loquacious, isn’t he?” Bayley asked dryly.

 

“Sadly he’s not the charmer that I am…” Rush said without a blink “...But he’s got other uses.”

 

“I’m sure…” Bayley muttered as she looked into the truck. The cargo inside was impressive, but there was so much of it that it was hard to get any sense of it. This problem was solved when Rush handed Bobby a tablet.

 

“My inventory, but feel free to browse by the naked eye if you like,” he said. 

 

Bayley joined Nattie, Bobby, and Molly as they looked down at the tablet. “Food is most important,” Nattie muttered.

 

“Agreed, but some of this equipment could be helpful too…” Molly said as she took the tablet from Bobby and scrolled through the manifest. Bayley took no part in the discussion as the others worked out exactly what they would ask for. She was standing off to one side when Rush joined her.

 

“You’re a division agent,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

 

“I am,” Bayley allowed, not letting her surprise at his observation show. The very existence of the division still wasn’t common knowledge in Chicago.

 

“I have some things that might interest you personally…” Rush suggested slyly. 

 

“Oh yeah?” Bayley asked. She wasn’t sure what game he was playing but she highly doubted it.

 

“Oh yes, two of those turrets ya’ll use. A couple of those rolling bombs. You should take a look.”

 

Bayley kept her face impassive, though it took an effort. If Rush was telling the truth, and it would have been a truly stupid lie to tell, then he had his hands on SHD tech. Apart from their primary mandate, a division agent’s highest duty was to ensure that their technology did not fall into other hands. In theory, SHD tech wouldn’t work for anyone without a SHD node. But that wasn’t a risk Bayley was willing to take. 

 

“We’ll see,” she told Rush as she walked to the wall and called up to one of the buddies. “Could you please ask Agent Dashwood to join me out here.” The man vanished and Bayley returned to school delegation.

 

“We’re mostly done, want to look through and see if there is anything you and your people absolutely need?” Bobby asked her. Bayley nodded and took the tablet, but she was only partially seeing what was on the screen. She selected a few items, she particularly interested in some bulletproof vests, but she was also planning.

 

“Don’t look up from the tablet and don’t react to what I say next,” she muttered without moving. She was pleased to see that the others were able to comply. “Rush has SHD technology, the same stuff I have. It’s division gear. No matter what it costs, we must buy it.”

 

“But…” Molly started to protest.

 

“No, LISTEN…” Bayley hissed. “This isn’t about me wanting it, I have my own gear. It won’t even work for me since it will be designed for another agent’s node. But we can NOT allow that technology to fall into the hands of demons or the SHIELD.”

 

“We can’t just drop our priorities because you say so!” Molly shot back through her teeth.

 

“You can’t afford NOT to if some demons or the SHIELD figure out how to use SHD tech then we are in even worse trouble than we already are. MUCH worse.”

 

“So you say.”

 

Before Bayley could respond, Tenille joined them. Bayley gave her a quick briefing on the situation to which she listened without comment. Tenille was wearing her aviator glasses so Bayley couldn’t see her eyes but her rigid posture told the story. The Aussie knew what was at stake.

 

“I need your help on this…” Bayley said calmly “...I WANT to do this amicably. But I simply will not allow Rush to just walk out of here with that SHD gear. If we have to, Agent Dashwood and I will take it by force.” As she delivered these last words, she saw the others tense, but she held up a hand. “If that would mean I would no longer be allowed to live here I would be sorry, but I would still always be willing to help you if I could. If you felt it made me your enemy...I’d just leave.”

 

The silence that followed was extremely tense. Molly was looking hostile, Bobby looked concerned, Nattie had an expression that was hard to read on her face. No one spoke for several very long seconds. Bayley was preparing to turn and leave when, to her surprise, Nattie spoke up.

 

“Let’s not let it come to that then. I think we have enough of that leftover pop that we can make the right offer. We’ve all seen how valuable it is.” Bobby and Molly both turned to look at her as she said this and both seemed to study her intently afterward. Bayley felt as though the entire situation was balanced on the edge of a knife. Then, to her immense relief, Bobby nodded.

 

“Very well, we do owe Agent Martinez,” he said. Molly looked like she might argue for a few moments but she ended up just closing her mouth and nodding. 

 

“Mr. Rush…” Nattie said as she stepped toward the trader “...I believe we have an offer for you.” The haggling went out for almost ten minutes but in the end, a deal was struck. The school would trade fifty gallons of water, ten pistols with ammo, and four palettes of Coke they’d procured on the raid on the distribution center. In return, they got a decent quantity of food, a box of batteries, four armor vests, and Bayley’s SHD tech.

 

It was a high price, but Bayley got the sense that Rush didn’t really understand what he had been holding. The SHD tech was worth its weight and gold, almost literally. So she counted herself lucky not only that she’d been able to get it off Rush, but that the school hadn’t made an issue about it. After Bayley had called some of her people down from the walls to help with the loading and unloading she sought out Rush.

 

He was standing off to one side, looking happy as his fee was loaded into his truck. And why shouldn’t he be? As far as he knew he had just fleeced some yokels for some SHD tech that he couldn’t even get to work. Perhaps this was what made him so free with his information.

 

“So, not that it matters, but where did you get the division gear?” Bayley asked. She knew Tenille was easing herself into a position to intercept Rush’s association if this went sideways.

 

Rush shrugged. “Lot of it for sale these days, someone is killing you guys downtown. The bodies are always stripped but most of them had their little hidey holes for goodies.”

 

Bayley nodded though her mind was working furiously. She recalled the information that Flair had given her on their parting. Some sniper was targeting agents in the downtown area. She hadn’t thought much about it at the time, half assuming it was just Flair trying to get in the last word. But now that she had this other tidbit from Rush.

 

“The person killing them, anyone know who it is?” Bayley asked. If it was one person who had killed multiple agents then they were sure to be an extremely dangerous individual.

 

Rush snorted at Bayley and gave her an expression that suggested she couldn’t be serious. “No one knows who the ghost is.”

 

“The ghost?” Bayley asked.

 

“The one they say is killing the agents. You really hadn’t heard?” Rush asked, his tone told Bayley that he was waking up to the fact that he had been giving away information he could be selling. She sighed. Peeling open a pouch on her harness she produced a wad of cash.

 

“Half now, half afterward if it’s worth it,” she said resignedly. Rush had to think about this. Most people still took cash, after all, they’d grown up seeing it as the only kind of real money. But nowadays most people preferred tangible goods. If Rush fell into this category then Bayley would have to improvise. To her relief, he eventually extended his hand with an expectant expression.

 

When he’d counted the cash he continued. “The ghost is some spooky shit. He gets into everything, even the most secure shit. And he’s a crazy good shot, a sniper. No one knows why he kills the people he does or who will be next. But everyone knows to be scared of him. If their mark appears, people die.”

 

“Mark?” Bayley asked. She remembered hearing something about the mysterious ‘Straight Fire’ leaving marks.

 

“A big ass skull. The ghost was even beefing with Straight Fire and survived it. They’re working together now.” This was a lot of news to take in for Bayley. She handed over the rest of her money and walked away from Rush to hold a quick consult with Tenille.   

 

“You’re thinking that this ‘ghost’ is the same person that Flair told you about?” the Aussie asked. Bayley nodded as she looked up at the sky in thought.

 

“I do, it’s too perfect a fit.”

 

“So, are you actually going to go looking for them?” Tenille asked, sounding both concerned and incredulous. Bayley shrugged at this.

 

“What choice do I have? They’re killing agents. We need more of those around, not fewer.”

 

“You seem to be safe down here. Why not just keep your focus? You’re helping the school.”

 

“I know…” Bayley sighed “...But someone who's good enough to kill multiple agents? That’s a real problem for us. And I can’t just hide down here hoping they won’t ever turn their attention this way.”

 

“You’re not exactly trained or equipped for counter-sniper work,” Tenille pointed out.

 

“I’ve been trained in it and it’s not like I’ll be wearing my full armor when I go looking. Besides, he may have killed a bunch of agents. But he hasn’t met me yet.”

 

Tenille looked unconvinced by this but eventually forced a smile. “Then I feel bad for the ghost when you get your hands on them.” 

 

“You can come with,” Bayley suggested hopefully.

 

“We’ll see.”

 

Bayley got the sense that she wouldn’t get any more from her friend so she let it go at that. She supervised the loading and unloading process until Rush and his truck had vanished down the road. She then asked Nattie if the other woman could spare her sometime later that day. Bayley wanted to know if Nattie’s sudden willingness to talk to her meant a thaw in their relations. But in the meantime, she had something important to do. 

 

Hurrying to her room, Bayley found the flash drive that Flair had given her. She’d tossed it carelessly onto one of the boxes in the closet but now she was fervently grateful that she hadn’t thrown it away, as she’d been tempted to do. She then headed toward the computer room. She had some studying to do.

 

And a date with a ghost. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew it feels like it's been a long time since I got to talk to any of you. Hope you all had a great holiday season!
> 
> What did everyone think of today's chapter? Bayley is one busy lady so of course, she sought another project. And what a project at that! How do you think the hugger will do against the ghost? 
> 
> Make sure to comment! I can't wait to hear from you. Kudos and bookmarks are good too!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	44. Welcome to Headquarters - Charlotte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte continues to struggle to keep the JTF afloat. Straight Fire and Martinez still aren't playing ball, and there's a new girl who has some interesting information for Charlotte. Who is she? Is she trustworthy? Will Charlotte ever catch a break and get that nap she so desperately needs?

 

“Are you kidding me?”

 

Charlotte looked up from where she was looking at the latest field report from Vega that she had gotten the night before.  She cocked an eyebrow at Xia, “what?”

 

“You know they’re going to have something to say about this.  And you  _ just got reinstated _ !”   
  
Charlotte smiled at the woman who was quickly becoming more of a friend than an assistant.  “Take a breath. I just sat down and managed to get six hours of sleep last night. After the royal ass-chewing I got from the incident last week, I’m not about to piss them off again.”   
  
Xia chuckled as she put a cup of coffee and some food on Charlotte’s desk.  “Good. Don’t get me wrong, Kingston is nice enough…”   
  


“But?”

 

Xia shrugged.  “He’s not quite as competent at this as you.”

 

Charlotte snorted, “yeah, okay.  There’s no way that he’s not better than me at this.”   
  
“I’m not going to win this argument, am I?”

 

Charlotte shook her head.  “Talk to me when I can finally breathe after getting ahead of all this work.”

 

Xia sat down in the chair across from Charlotte, “what’s going on now?”

 

Charlotte tossed the paperwork on the desk in front of her.  “What isn’t going on is the better question. It seems like as soon as we get a foothold, it gets ripped out from under us.”

 

“I thought Straight Fire agreed to help out.”

 

“Not exactly,” Charlotte sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose.  “She’s agreed to play nice, but not actively assist us. Says she has too much of her own stuff going on… whatever that means.”

 

“But she has been in contact?” Xia asked next.

 

“If you want to say calling just to yell about something contact, then sure.  She’s been in contact.”

 

Xia sighed and rolled her eyes.  “Okay, so what are you working on right now?” she asked as she popped some toast in her mouth.

 

Charlotte stirred the slop that was in her bowl and took a bite, trying her best to choke it down.  “Is that supposed to be oatmeal?”

 

Xia laughed, “that’s what José is calling it.”

 

Charlotte lifted her spoon and let the “oatmeal” slide off the spoon and drop back into the bowl with an audibly wet “slap”.  “Gross. I’ll just have to take his word for it.” She shoved another spoonful into her mouth.  

 

She pushed the paperwork over towards Xia as she continued to eat.  “It’s a field report from Vega. Looks like the SHIELD is making a push for downtown from the Northwest.  And she’s reporting that more and more combined markings are showing up.”

 

Xia studied the map and then looked up at Charlotte.  “Combined markings are still showing up? I thought Straight Fire said she wasn’t working with the Ghost.”

 

Charlotte shook her head, “she’s not.  At least not according to her. Which means that the Ghost is using them for something.  If I had to guess, it’s just another tactic to get under Straight Fire’s skin.”   
  
“So the rumors are true then?”  Xia made a face as she started eating the oatmeal.

 

“That they are at war with each other, and that the Ghost is using every chance she can to piss off Straight Fire?  Yeah, that’s what it seems like.” Charlotte paused and then shrugged her shoulders, “that is if you want to believe what Straight Fire is saying.”   
  
Xia sat back in her seat and took a sip from her coffee cup.  “You think she’s making it up?”

 

Charlotte thought about it for a few seconds.  “No, I really don't. I saw the look in her eyes when I compared her to the Ghost.  That kind of hatred is too hard to fake.”

 

Xia nodded as she flipped through the packet of paper, “if it makes you feel any better, you didn’t have any really pressing issues waiting for you when I got up.  Wait a minute ...”   
  
Charlotte cocked an eyebrow.  “What is it?”

 

Xia moved one of the print out maps around so Charlotte could look at it.  “What do these markings mean? I’ve never seen them before.”   
  
Charlotte looked at the marking that Xia had indicated and then sighed forcefully.  “Those are the locations that we have recovered SHD tech from.” She paused at the confused look on Xia’s face.  

 

“Its technology that's provided to Division Agents to help us with our missions.  Its gear that's stronger and more efficient than what almost anyone else has, but it can only work with our nodes.  These markings here,” she tapped on one of the locations, “indicate a location where we have picked up that gear from one of the factions.”

 

Xia seemed to think about that for a few seconds.  “But if its tech that is specific for Division Agents, how do the other factions have it?”

 

Charlotte shrugged as she leaned back in her chair.  “That is something that I haven’t been able to figure out exactly.  The only thing I can think of is the Ghost is selling the tech she has taken from the Agents she’s killed and sold it to the highest bidder.”

 

Xia whistled low as she looked back at the map.  “That’s a lot of tech that’s still uncounted for then, I’m guessing.”   
  
Charlotte nodded with a frustrated look on her face.  “It’s something that we’ve been trying to get a handle on, but we just don’t have enough resources for it.”

 

Xia was about to say something else, but a knock on the door interrupted their conversation.  When Charlotte looked up to see who it was, she smiled at Lacey Evans who was standing there. “What?  No salute this time?”

 

Evans stood there looking confused.  “You said you didn’t… wait, should I?”

 

Charlotte chuckled and shook her head.  “No Evans, I hate it when you do that. I’m just giving you a hard time.  What’s up?”   
  


Lacey blinked a few times and then walked into the office with a piece of paper in her hands.  “Sorry to interrupt your breakfast, but this feels like one of those really important things that you like being told about immediately.”

 

Xia stood and collected the tray and plates, smiling at Charlotte as she walked towards the door.  “I’ll take that as my cue. Thank you for eating without too much fuss this morning.”   
  
Charlotte rolled her eyes as she accepted the paper from Lacey.  “Be sure to tell Dr. Scot that the next time you give her my progress report.”

 

Xia had the decency to look embarrassed as she left the office and headed back to her desk.  Charlotte sighed and looked at the paper. “What the fuck is this?” she asked in an eerily calm voice when she realized what exactly she was holding.  

 

Lacey shifted her weight back and forth a few times.  “It’s ummm…it’s a recon picture from Officer Kana of the warehouse we were going to hit tomorrow.”

 

“Please tell me that isn’t a group of raiders from Soldier Field taking the supplies from it.”

 

“I… I can’t, ma’am.  That’s what it is. Vega followed them back to Soldier Field to confirm.”

 

Charlotte closed her eyes and tried to keep her emotions under control.  Staring back at her in the picture was Tessa Blanchard leading the group from Soldier Field.  The feeling of betrayal she felt at that moment was beyond astronomical. Charlotte nodded, “thank you, Evans.  Can you give me a minute, please? And close the door when you leave.”   
  
“Ma’am,” Lacey nodded as she followed Charlotte’s request and closed the door to the office as she left.

 

Charlotte sat there for a few long moments in silence.  What little good mood she had started the day with was long gone now that she was looking at her ex staring back at her as she stole the supplies the JTF desperately needed out from under her.  The Commander in her wanted to reign holy hell down on her uncle and her… on Tessa. But her heart just wanted to know why the woman she loved would turn on her like this.  

 

Realizing she wouldn’t get the answers she needed by staring at the photo, Charlotte picked up the radio that was dialed into a frequency that Tessa herself monitored.  She cleared her throat and hit the transmit button. “Are you there?”   
  
There were a few seconds of tense silence before Tessa’s voice floated through the room.   _ “Lottie, so soon?  Our last meeting wasn’t all that long ago.” _   
  
Charlotte cursed her body as it reacted immediately to the sound of Tessa’s voice.  She cleared her throat. “This isn’t about that.”

 

_ “Oh?  Are you sure?  Because I have nothing but time right now, and I’m feeling generous.” _

 

Charlotte took a steadying breath. “No, Tessa.  I’m not calling about that. I just need to know how you could do this to me?”

 

“ _ Do what, my pet _ ?”

 

Charlotte felt her anger flare up to the surface and she fought to keep it under control because making Tessa angry would only force her to clam up.  “You know what. I can’t believe you used the intel I gave you in confidence to get supplies for Soldier Field!”

 

There was a short pause and Charlotte almost asked if Tessa was still there when her voice crackled back.   _ “That wasn’t me.  My father was already focused on it as a target.  I tried to argue that the JTF needed it more than we did, but he didn’t listen. _ ”

 

 “Don’t lie to me, Tessa.  I told you that as a friend!  I told you I was afraid that we wouldn’t be able to take it because of how fortified it was, but we needed to hit it because we needed the supplies in there!  Soldier Field doesn’t need them! My people are starving and what do you do? You go in there and take it! I can’t believe you right now.”

 

“ _ Watch your tone with me, Lottie.  I’m going to let that slide because I can tell you’re upset, but don’t let it happen again or you will regret it,” _ the warning was clear in Tessa’s voice.  

 

Charlotte shivered involuntarily but continued.  “I can’t worry about that right now. You signed the death certificate of so many people with your greed.  I cannot believe I trusted you!”

 

Another pause from Tessa, but when she responded her tone was softer.  “ _ I understand you’re upset by this, love.  And I’m sorry that my father ordered the raid.  I fought for your people, please believe me when I say that I did.  But he wasn’t hearing it. It was out of my hands.” _

 

Charlotte stared at the picture on her desk.  She wanted to believe Tessa so much, but there was Tessa’s face staring back at her.  “Then why did you lead the raid?”

 

“ _ What?” _

 

Charlotte’s eyes slammed shut as her heart broke a little bit more.  “Why are you lying to me right now? You’re like the ONE person I can trust in this fucking city and you’re lying to me.  I just need to know why!”

 

There was a sigh from Tessa.  “ _ I am so sorry, baby girl.  But there was medication in there that we needed.  There’s a shortage down here of albuterol and insulin, and we’re barely keeping some of these people alive.  I’m sorry that it had to be done this way, but we needed to act fast. I should have told you, baby but I didn’t have the time.” _

 

Charlotte felt her anger start to dissipate with that explanation, but the nagging doubt stayed nagging in the back of her mind.  Charlotte started to idly trace Tessa’s face in the picture, her heart now pulling her in one direction while her head pulled her in another.  “I would have given you the medication. It didn’t even have to be a trade, I would have just given it to you. If you had just asked me, I would have done it.  You know I would do anything for you.”

 

“ _ I know baby.  And I’m sorry that we went about it this way.  I never meant to hurt you with this, but you know how hard it is for me to be the one to ask for help.  I’m supposed to be there for you, not the other way around. I was afraid you were going to think less of me if I asked you for help after you did all the work to raid the place.” _

 

“Tessa… It’s a two-way street.  If nothing else, we’re friends. We’re supposed to rely on each other and lean on each other.  I wouldn’t have thought any less of you if you asked for help it would make you look stronger in my eyes.”

 

“ _ How can I make it up to you, sweetie?” _ the pleading tone of Tessa’s voice cut through Charlotte.  “ _ I’m willing to do anything to get your trust back. _ ”  

 

Charlotte sighed and thought about how to best handle this situation.  “Just… just  _ talk  _ to me in the future.  If you need help, we can work something out together, okay?  You’re not alone out here, so please stop trying to do it on your own.”

 

Tessa sounded eager when she responded.  “ _ Of course baby.  I promise to talk to you about it in the future.  And if you want…I can make this up to you the next time you’re here.” _

 

Charlotte felt relief blossom in her chest.  She smiled to herself when she heard the Tessa she knew and loved talking to her.  “I would like that. A lot actually.”

 

“ _ Oh, I bet you would, baby girl.  I need to go now, but don’t make me wait too long until your next trip.  You know I don’t like to be kept waiting. _ ”

 

She didn’t give Charlotte a chance to respond before the radio clicked off.  Charlotte sighed as she sat back in her chair and just stared at the picture in front of her.  She couldn’t be sure how long she sat there staring at the woman she loved, but she was roughly jolted from her daydreaming by a knock on her door.

 

She quickly shoved the picture into her desk and cleared her throat.  “Enter.”

 

The door opened and Naomi poked her head in.  “Hey, chief. Sorry to bother you, but there’s something I think you should see.”

 

Charlotte’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  “I thought you were hitting a few Demon nests today and wouldn’t be back until later tonight.”

 

Naomi nodded but still looked slightly concerned.  “We were, but there was something at one of the nests that we needed to bring back ASAP.”

 

That caught Charlotte’s attention as she stood, “oh?  What’s that?”   
  
Naomi coughed slightly.  “It’s not really a what… here, just go easy.  She’s been through a lot.”

 

“She?” Charlotte asked as she walked to the door, stopping in her tracks when Naomi opened it to reveal a small woman who looked like she had been through hell sitting in a chair outside her door.  There was a blanket draped over her shoulders and her dark brown hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in quite some time. Her eyes were darting around the hallway, and her body language screamed that she was afraid.  

 

Charlotte looked at Naomi and then nodded back into her office.  Naomi nodded and then knelt in front of the woman so she could speak quietly to her.  “I’m just going to step inside the office and speak to the Commander for a second, okay?  Yell if you need anything.”

 

The woman continued to look around the room but nodded after a few seconds.  Naomi then walked into the office and shut the door most of the way. “We found her locked in a closet in the basement of one of the Demon nests.  She looks like she hasn’t eaten in a while, but other than some minor injuries, she doesn’t seem to be too badly hurt.”

 

Charlotte rubbed her hands over her face to try and relieve the stress that was settling in behind her eyes.  “Okay, so she was a captive. Why do you think she was important enough to bring to me?”

 

“Because she’s really good with computers, like scary good.”

 

Charlotte nodded and took a deep breath.  “Okay, what’s her name?”

 

“Emma.”

 

Charlotte walked past Naomi and toward the door, stopping just long enough to squeeze her friend’s shoulder.  “Good work. You and your guys have tomorrow off. Go grab some food and enjoy your time off.”

 

Naomi followed Charlotte into the hallway, “I think I’d like to stay with her if you don’t mind.”

 

Charlotte nodded as she knelt in front of Emma. “That’s fine with me.”  She turned her attention to the other woman, “hey, Emma? I’m Commander Flair, but you can call me Charlotte.  Are you injured? Do you need to go see one of our doctors?”

 

Emma didn’t respond out loud. She just stared down into her lap at her hands which were folded in an oddly demure attitude which clashed terribly with the state of her appearance. Eventually, it seemed to occur to her that she needed to offer some sort of response. After another pause, she shook her head silently.

 

Charlotte nodded and slowly stood.  “I have a couple of questions for you.  Would it be okay if we talked for a minute in my office?”

 

Emma nodded once but made no effort to stand as she pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders. She looked like she might not ever move for a time but eventually managed to stand. She studiously avoided looking at Charlotte in her eyes as she allowed the Commander to lead her into the office. 

 

Charlotte looked at Xia as she led the smaller woman into her office.  “Can you get her some food and maybe some tea? If José gives you a hard time, tell him it’s for me.”

 

Xia nodded and got up to go to the cafeteria.  Charlotte waited a few seconds and then walked into her office and pulled one of the chairs towards Emma who was standing there looking small and lost.  “You can sit if you want, or stay standing, whatever is going to make you feel safest. I’m not going to force you to do anything, and I won’t be mad if you want me to stop, okay?  You’re safe here, I promise.”

 

“Thank you,” Emma half whispered and half squeaked. She still looked as though she thought anything and everything around her might explode at any moment.

 

Charlotte moved her chair so it wasn’t behind the desk, but just at the corner so she could face Emma if she decided to sit down.  She didn’t want to be sitting behind the desk in case it gave an air of superiority. Naomi sat on a small cabinet off to the right side of Emma’s chair.  

 

“Is there anything I can get you?  Anything you need before we get started?”  Charlotte asked quietly. She made sure to keep her voice calm and reassuring so she didn’t spook the other woman.  

 

With an obvious effort, Emma cleared her throat and seemed to settle into the chair. She still had the blanket clutched tightly about herself but she finally managed to look up at Charlotte. Or, at least, at Charlotte’s forehead. “I’m...I’m fine, thank you,” came the quiet voice which carried a definite hint of New England in its accent.

 

“Okay, if you decide you need anything at any time, just let me or Naomi know.  If you don’t mind, I’d like to start by asking you some questions about what happened to you.”  Charlotte’s heart was breaking for this young woman. She seemed so small and innocent. There was no reason for her to be in the shape she was currently in, and it just made Charlotte want to tear the Demons apart limb from limb until every last one of them paid.  

 

“I understand…” Emma said in a voice barely above a whisper.

 

Charlotte took a breath to prepare herself for what she was about to ask, but she had to know.  And the sooner she got it out of the way, the easier she could make Emma’s stay here. “Emma, Naomi said she found you in the basement of a Demon’s nest.  They don’t usually keep prisoners so there has to be something special about you. Do you know what they wanted with you?”

  
  


Emma was quiet again at this. This stretched for almost a minute before she forced herself to cough. “I...they...needed me to repair things for them. They wanted to be able to use their computers and the building’s cameras. And…” she trailed off. There was no point in her saying aloud what everyone could easily guess.

 

Charlotte shuddered but forced her anger down.  She needed to stay calm so she didn’t scare this poor woman any more than she already had been.  “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. And I promise to keep these questions as short as possible.  Did they say anything about what they were going to use the computers for?”

 

“They...I don’t believe they had any kind of plan, Commander. They just seemed to want the internet back for...the internet. They seemed to believe their situation would greatly improve if they had it…”

 

Charlotte nodded.  “That makes more sense than if they did have a plan.”  She paused and tried to get a read on how much longer Emma would be able to withstand answering questions.  “Was there anyone else there with you? Or were you the only one they were holding?”

 

Emma’s gaze dropped again as she gave a short and simple answer that was terrible in its implication. “Not at first.”

 

Charlotte shared a quick look with Naomi, who shook her head.  “We didn’t find anyone else with you. I know this is going to be hard, but do you know what happened to them?  We would like to get them as well if they’re still alive.”

 

Emma sniffled as she tried to wrap herself more tightly in her blanket. “They...they killed a man when he couldn’t work on their cars any longer. The other girl died after...afterward. She was so young, she couldn’t survive it.”

 

Charlotte diverted her eyes and shook her head.  The fact that there were people in this world who would do things like this… she sighed and looked back at Emma.  “I promise we’re almost done and then we can get you checked out by our doctors just to be safe. Did you hear anything, or see anything that might have sounded odd to you.  Maybe plans that they were making or places they were planning on attacking?”

 

“I...they didn’t really talk to me,” Emma answered, really sounding as though she regretted not being able to help Charlotte more. But then her head came back up with an expression that suggested she had just had a breakthrough. “They...they kept talking about some woman with an odd name. Something about flame?”

 

Charlotte studied her for a few seconds.  “Straight Fire? Is that the name they kept saying?”

 

“Yes, they seemed...scared of it? They whispered it. They said she’d recently beaten someone else with a strange name. Someone called the Ghost?” Emma sounded like someone who was trying desperately to recall something that they felt slipping from their memory.

 

Naomi perked up at this but stayed quiet.  She made a motion to catch Charlotte’s attention and shook her head again.  Charlotte nodded slightly to relay that she understood and then turned her attention back to Emma.  “They thought Straight Fire beat the Ghost? Did they talk about how, or when, or maybe even where?”

 

“I’m sorry Commander I...I didn’t realize it was important,” Emma said, sounding desolate.

 

“Hey,” Charlotte smiled reassuringly.  “That’s okay, it might not mean anything at all.  We’ve just been having a bit of a problem with those two and this is the first we’ve been hearing that one of them could be out of the game.  We’ll send some of our people out to investigate, so don’t worry about it.”   
  
She fidgeted slightly in her chair to keep herself from reaching out to comfort the other woman.  “Is there anything else you can remember that might be important?”

 

“I’m afraid I won’t be a good judge of what’s important to...to this world anymore…” Emma said in a defeated tone that made clear that the world kicked much of the optimism out of her.

 

“I understand.  You’ve been more than helpful with what you’ve given us.  I’ll let you go get checked out and then get some rest. You are more than welcome to stay here if you like, or we can discuss getting you set up in a place in the safe zone if you’d rather.  You don’t have to make that decision now though, we have time okay?” 

 

This time she did reach out and place a gentle hand on Emma’s knee, “I’m serious, you can stay if this is a place where you feel safe, ok?  We also have a psychiatrist if you think you might want to talk to someone. No pressure on anything though, we’ll go at your pace.”

 

She looked over at Naomi.  “Can you take her to see either Bevis or Sane, and then to the showers?  I’d ask someone else so you could get some rest, but I’m not sure crowding her with new people is a good idea right now.  Oh, and give her one of the private rooms down the hall from mine so she has a little bit of space to call her own.”

 

Naomi smiled and nodded as she stood.  “No problem Commander.”  

 

She turned to Emma, “ready to go, sweetheart?  Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

 

Emma stood and finally, seemingly a little shaky on her feet. But she cleared her throat once more and forced herself with a visible effort to look Charlotte in the eye. “Thank you...Commander…” she said quietly as she held out a hand toward Charlotte.

 

Charlotte stood as well and took the offered hand.  “Of course, you’re more than welcome here. Thank you for letting me ask my questions.  If you need anything at all, my door is always open.”

 

She watched as Naomi led the smaller woman out of her office and towards the medical bay.  She would need to check up on the information about Straight Fire and the Ghost, and she had an idea of where to start.

  
  


_________________

  
  


Charlotte sighed as she picked up the radio for the sixth time that day.  Agent Lynch hadn’t answered the first few times that she had tried to reach out, and it was getting frustrating.  Charlotte understood that Lynch didn’t owe her anything, but the least she could do is pick up a radio. All she needed was a quick confirmation on the Ghost’s death or not.  It wouldn’t take that long and the more that Lynch made her wait for a response, the more aggravated she was getting.  

 

“Commander Flair to Agent Lynch, how do you copy, over?”

 

Some static lasted almost a minute before Charlotte groaned and tried again.  “Commander Flair to Agent Lynch. How do you copy?”

 

“ _ Yer gettin kinda annoyin’, lass.  I ain’t gonna lie to ya.” _

 

“Excuse me?” Charlotte asked, slightly taken aback by Lynch’s tone.

 

“ _ You’ve been squawkin’ over this radio all day.  And I’ve been a little busy doin’ actual work. You bein’ loud as fuck ain’t helpin’ my progress is all I’m sayin’.” _

 

Now that Lynch brought it up, she did sound a little tired and stressed, as if she had just finished a long operation.  “Are … are you okay?”

 

There was a pause before she got a response.  “ _ Aye.  O’course I’m okay.  Why wouldn’t I be? And a better question is, why do you care?” _

 

Charlotte rolled her eyes and shook her head.  So far she had met two out of the three people Arn had left for her to find, and both of them were turning out to royal pains in her ass.  “I care because you’re an Agent of mine. And your welfare is actually pretty important to me.”

 

“ _ Aye, because I’m a tool fer you ta use, an asset if ya will.  You lose yer precious Agents and you have nothin’ ta fight tha factions with.  Makes sense…” _

 

“Contrary to what seems to be popular belief around here, I care about my Agents as people.  Does having you around make my life easier…? Quite honestly, that remains to be seen when it comes to you personally.  But yes, I will admit that having Agents around does make the missions easier to handle. That doesn’t mean, however, that I don’t care about you all as individuals.”   
  
“ _ Sure thing love.  Whatever you say.” _

 

Charlotte sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.  “That’s not why I called.”

 

“ _ Figgered it wasn’t.  What do ya need?” _

 

“Just information.  You asked me to respect the work you’re doing out there on your own, and while I don’t know enough about it to respect it, I will respect your request.  So right now all I need is information on a mutual thorn in our side.”

 

There was another pause.  “ _ Why do ya need ta know about her?” _

 

“Rumor has it you killed her.”

 

Loud laughter filled the office as Lynch kept the transmit button pressed.  Charlotte sat heavily back in her chair and settled in to wait for her to finish.  The first couple of seconds the laugh sounded genuine and then it petered off into sarcasm.  When there was a pause, Charlotte jumped in. “I take that as a no.”

 

“ _ Take it however ya please.  But I didn’t kill her. Wish I had, but if she is dead it wasn’t me who did it.” _

 

Charlotte thought about it for a few seconds.  “You don’t think she’s dead?”

 

“ _ Her?” _   Lynch’s voice sounded incredulous.  “ _ Nah, she ain’t dead.  She’s probably underground plannin’ somethin’.  But she ain’t dead.” _

 

“How can you be so sure?” Charlotte asked next.

 

“ _ I’ve been dealin’ with ‘er long enough ta know that it’s goin’ ta take a stroke of luck or an act of god ta take ‘er out.” _

 

Charlotte took a deep breath.  “You make it sound like she’s a god herself.”

 

“ _ She just might be, lass.  She just might be. Listen…” _ there was another long pause.  “ _ Ya didn’t hear this from me cause it might ruin me reputation.  But I’ve never seen anyone as talented as she is. As much as I hate ‘er and want ta be tha one who kills her, I will give ‘er respect where it’s due.  And when it comes ta what she does? It’s earned.” _

 

Charlotte blinked at her radio in confusion.  “I’m sorry, what?”

 

“ _ I can respect an operator’s skill without respectin’ them.  I said that I hate ‘er, and that is true. Tha way she goes about toyin’ with me and the civilians… it ain’t right.  And if I ever get tha chance, I’m gonna put one between ‘er eyes. But I can respect skill when I see it, and she has a scary amount of skill.  Possibly tha best shot I ever seen.” _

 

Charlotte waited for Lynch to continue but when she didn’t Charlotte prompted her.  “What does that have to do with her still being alive?”

 

There was a snort from Lynch.  “ _ Well, fer starters ya heard I was tha one who did her in.  Well, not me Agent Lynch, but me… the other me. Anyway, I promise you it wasn’t.  Second, you don’t know ‘er like I know ‘er. She been toyin’ with me fer a while, and I can tell ya, she doesn’t do anythin’ without a reason or a plan in place.” _

 

Charlotte chewed on her bottom lip while she considered this.  “Maybe. But then why did a group of Demons think she was dead.”

 

This time Lynch’s laugh was mocking.  “ _ Because she wants someone ta think she’s kicked tha bucket.  Now if ya don’t need anythin’ else, I need ta get this blood off’a me.” _

 

The radio clicked off before Charlotte could say anything else.  

  
  


_________________

  
  


It had been a few days since Emma had first been brought to the JTF, and Charlotte was sitting in her office looking at the proof of the Ghost’s demise in front of her.  Lynch had been only slightly helpful when they talked initially but had been adamant that she didn’t have anything to do with the Ghost possibly being dead. If anything, Lynch was positive that the Ghost was playing all of them to the extent that she wanted people to believe she was dead.  That theory meant that she had put a lot of work into the evidence she was seeing in front of her.  

 

Charlotte studied the burned remains of the sniper rifle and the SHD tech that had been recovered from the same building they had rescued Emma from.  Charlotte thought it was odd that the Demons of all people would have it, especially since they were convinced that Straight Fire had killed the Ghost.  But then again, most of the things the Demons did made very little sense to her. 

 

Before she decided on declaring the Ghost officially dead or not, Charlotte needed to cover all of her bases, which meant seeking out Emma to see if she had remembered anything else.  Right now Charlotte was leaning towards believing Lynch instead of the sniper rifle since that could have technically belonged to anyone. And the SHD tech? Well, that was possibly more tech that had been sold off by the Ghost herself.  

 

She didn’t need to know for sure if the Ghost was out of play or not, but it would make her life easier to know for sure one way or the other.  So she pushed out of the chair and went in search of the JTF’s newest resident. She had been meaning to check in with Emma to see if she was settling in okay anyway, so this would kill two birds with one stone.

 

She didn’t have to look all that hard before she found Emma sitting by herself in the mess hall.  Charlotte smiled sadly to herself, squared her shoulders and walked in. There was a small murmur that spread through the room once people realized Charlotte’s presence, but she ignored it and walked over to the table where Emma was sitting.  “Mind if I sit for a minute?”

 

Emma jumped a full inch into the air, jarring her knees against the table, upsetting her drink. “I’m so sorry, Commander, I...I just…” She trailed off as she tried to dab uselessly at the water she’d spilled with a napkin.

 

 Charlotte winced, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.  I thought you saw me approach.”  

 

She reached the table behind her and glared at Curt who was about to protest when she stole some of his napkins and then helped Emma clean it up. “There, no harm no foul.”

 

Emma closed her eyes and dropped back down to her seat. She took a few deep breaths before a tear leaked out from under her eyelid. “I’m sorry...I’m sorry. I’m a mess but I’m...yes, please sit.”

 

Charlotte took the seat across from her.  “It’s okay that you’re still a little jumpy.  Anyone who lived through what you did would be.  I know when I came home after my first deployment, I jumped at almost everything.  You name it, I was scared by it… a car backfiring, kids screaming at the park, fireworks.   It didn’t matter what it was, I was terrified.”  

 

She tapped the table lightly to draw Emma’s attention to her.  “It does get easier to manage though, it just takes some time.”

 

“I think...I think I’d just like to feel useful again,” Emma sniffed.

 

Charlotte smiled and then handed her a clean napkin.  “If you’re as good with computers as I’ve been hearing, then we can find something for you to do around here if that’s what you want.”

 

Emma cried quietly for a few moments before she managed to nod. 

 

Charlotte waited patiently for the other woman to calm down slightly.  “I do have one more question when you’re feeling up to it. It doesn’t have to be now, it can be whenever you get a second.  There’s no rush on it, so we can take your time.”

 

Emma waved for her to continue as she dabbed at her eyes with a napkin.

 

“We recovered a damaged sniper rifle from the building the Demons were holding you in, and there’s a chance it might have belonged to the Ghost.  Do you know anything about it?”

 

Emma shook her head. “I’d never even seen a gun until after I got trapped in Chicago. They just wanted me to try to fix the electronics on it. None of them could figure it out.”

 

Charlotte paused at this.  “They wanted you to fix the electronics on  _ it? _   You mean the electronics on the gun itself?”

 

Emma nodded as she wiped at another tear. “It has a lot of advanced tech in it’s...telescope? The thing on top. But it also has several modules that are clearly designed to allow it to network with something else.”

 

Charlotte nodded, “okay, that’s helpful, thank you.” 

 

She stood up and turned to leave the mess hall, but stopped and looked back at Emma.  “Whenever you’re ready to get back to work, just let me know and I’ll put you into a work schedule rotation with our tech staff if you want.”

 

At Emma’s confirming nod, Charlotte left the mess hall and then went to her last source of information on the Ghost.  

 

It took her maybe five minutes to make her way to the armory, having to stop and talk to a few people along the way.  But once she was there, it didn’t take long for her to find Io. She was sitting at the back of the armory with Kairi having a rather animated conversation in Japanese.  Charlotte stood there for a few seconds, content to watch the two women as they talked. It made her happy that they had each other to talk to in their native tongue. It wasn’t that either one of them had any trouble communicating in English, but there was just something about being able to communicate with someone in your first language.  

 

Charlotte finally cleared her throat and smiled slightly when they both jumped and looked at her.  “Sorry to bother you two, this won’t take long. I just have a few questions for Shirai.”

 

Io stood and said something to Kairi, who nodded and made herself comfortable in the chair she was sitting in.  She smiled as she approached Charlotte. “What can I do for you, Commander?”

 

Charlotte’s eyes darted to Kairi with a raised eyebrow, but Io just nodded.  “She’s okay to hear what you have to ask.”

 

“It’s about your friend on the outside…”

 

Io shrugged, “she’s still okay.”

 

Charlotte’s eyebrows rose a fraction in surprise.  “If you say so. I need to know the last time they contacted you for a dead drop.”

 

Io thought about it for a while, her face scrunching in concentration.  “A few weeks, maybe three?”   
  
“That long?” Charlotte asked, her mood dropping instantly.  “Are you sure?”

 

Io shrugged.  “More or less.  That’s about how long they go between drops anyway, so this isn’t anything abnormal.  Why?”

 

Charlotte chewed on her bottom lip as she weighed her options in how much to tell her.  She finally decided it wouldn’t hurt either way. “There’s word that they’ve been taken out.  I have a sniper rifle up in my office that may have belonged to them, and I’m just looking for confirmation.”   
  


“I know they prefer .338 Lapua rounds, so if you’ve got a .338 rifle then there’s a chance.”  She paused as she thought about it for a few moments. “But, I’d hesitate to confirm it’s theirs.”

 

“Why?”

 

Io shrugged again.  “Don’t you think whoever killed them would have made sure everyone knew?  It seems like something a faction would want the world to know… that they took out the Ghost,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

 

Charlotte thought that over and then nodded.  “You’re right. Can you let me know if they make contact again?  Just so I know if they’re still in play or not.”

 

Io nodded, “of course.”

 

Charlotte thanked her and then smiled at Kairi who just pointed to Charlotte’s watch with narrowed eyes.  The threat was clear: Sane was watching her sleeping habits.   
  


She left the armory quickly, making sure to keep her head down.  She had finally gotten the nosey doctor coalition off her back. The last thing she needed was to make them mad again, especially when it came to the small surgeon.  There was just something about her that put Charlotte on edge, and if she could avoid pissing her off, the better Charlotte could sleep at night.

  
  


_______________

  
  


Charlotte stretched as she walked into the command center a couple of days after her conversation with Shirai.  There hadn’t been any new information about the Ghost in those days, and Charlotte was starting to get antsy. It felt like something big was just on the horizon and with the Ghost involved, it was probably going to be catastrophic.

 

She walked over to where they had the computers set up and cleared her throat, making sure to make plenty of noise as she approached.  The last thing she wanted was to scare Emma especially since she was approaching from behind.  

 

“Good morning,” she greeted as she placed a cup of coffee on the desk next to Emma’s right arm.

 

The dark-haired woman gave an all-mighty start, nearly jumping out of her chair. Twisting she looked up at Charlotte and pressed a hand on her chest. “Commander, I’m sorry I just...I’m sorry.”

 

  Charlotte shook her head and smiled sadly, “please stop apologizing, Emma.  I should be the one saying sorry. I need to start approaching you from the front.”  She pointed to the coffee, “I brought that for you, but after the heart attack I just gave you, you might not need it.”

 

Emma managed a small laugh. “No, thank you, Commander. I could really use it and I’m grateful.” She took the mug gingerly and sipped it. 

 

Charlotte leaned against the desk behind her as she watched the smaller woman, “settling in okay with everything?”

 

“Everyone has been so nice…” Emma said before trailing off. She seemed to mull over her next words before a sad smile touched her face. “I just...I feel guilty. Everyone has been so welcoming and I keep jumping at shadows.”

 

“That's not your fault.  Anyone who went through what you did… they’d be just as jumpy.  It’s a normal reaction to the situation.”    
  


She paused for a second to consider if she wanted to broach the next point.  “Have you considered going to see Dr. Scot? I know some people don’t put a lot of faith in talking through problems, but she may have ways to help you calm down some.  Or maybe Dr. Bevis?”

 

Emma toyed with her mouse for several moments. “I...I don’t want to seem rude. I’m sure they are both wonderful at their jobs I just…” she trailed off for several moments before she looked up at Charlotte. “Would you talk to me?”

 

To say she was a little surprised by the request would be an understatement, but Charlotte tried to keep her face open and honest.  “Of course.” She reached for a chair and pulled it up so she was sitting near Emma. “I meant it when I said my door was always open.”

 

“I appreciate that…” Emma said “...I shouldn’t have asked though, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

 

“You didn’t.  I’m offering to listen.”  She sighed and leaned her forearms on her knees, her eyes focusing on her hands instead of the other woman.  “I know it can be difficult to talk to someone about something like this. After my first deployment, I came home a fucking mess.  I couldn’t sleep, I barely ate and I just wanted to stop seeing all of the guys that I had lost every time I closed my eyes. I felt like there wasn’t anyone who got what I was feeling or what I was going through.  That is until a buddy of mine that I went through basic with called me to ask if I was having a hard time coping with being home.”

 

She looked up at Emma, a small encouraging smile on her face.  “I say all of that to say… I get it. I understand part of what you’re going through.  I’m not going to pressure you to talk to me about anything, but I am pretty good at listening if you decided you want to talk.”

 

Emma’s smile became a bit less forced at this response. “I...may take you up on that offer, Commander.” 

 

“Any time.  I mean that.  You know where my quarters are, so don’t be afraid to knock there also.  I want you to feel safe here, and if there’s any way that I can help with that, I want to.”

 

“I…” Emma started to say before hesitating. She seemed to brace herself before she cleared her throat and went on. “I used to talk to my uncle about everything. My father left when I was very young so I kinda got raised by my mother’s brother. I...don't know if he’s still alive in Boston or not.”

 

Charlotte curled her fingers into her fist to stop herself from reaching out to the other woman.  She didn’t know what it was about her, but whatever it was made Charlotte want to protect her from the world and everything in it.  “I wish there was a way we could contact Boston for you. I know how difficult it is not knowing if your loved ones are safe. I was one of the lucky ones when this outbreak started, everyone I cared about was here in the city.  My mom was never really a part of my life and my father died years ago, but the man who raised me… my father’s best friend was here with me until he was killed a few weeks ago.”

 

She took a steadying breath.  “It’s been hard not having him around.  I can’t imagine what it must be like for you, not knowing… I’m sorry you’re going through that.”

 

Emma sniffed as she looked down into her lap. “I’m sorry you are as well.” She took a few moments before she looked up again. “But I’m very grateful you’ve let me stay, and that you’ve given me something to do. It helps to feel useful again.”

 

Charlotte shrugged.  “It was the least I could do.  Besides, Kevin thinks he’s better than he is when it comes to computers.  So the more help we can get with these things, the happier I will be.”

 

“He’s a gifted programmer and he’s given me a very interesting challenge,” Emma said, showing some enthusiasm for the time. “Some of these servers seem like they’ve been passed between owners a few times. I’ve found some tidbits buried deep in the code. I was going to ask Kevin but I guess I can ask you. Do you know of any program or process called ‘Irish Fire’?”

 

Charlotte hesitated, the suspicion that she was being played by Straight Fire started to creep into her mind.  “I’ve never heard of it, but then again I’m not great with computers. So I really can’t be much help.”

 

Emma frowned. “Well, Mr. Owens asked me to clean out anything that might be affecting performance. So I went through with a fine-tooth comb and pulled all the instances of that particular .exe out of the network. I also put in my process that will automatically scan for any recurrence of it and purge any that it locates. I don’t know what it did but it seemed like it was better to be cautious.”

 

“If it was something that Kevin didn’t put in there, then I agree it was better to err on the side of caution and remove it, so thank you for that.  Did you find anything else that may be dangerous to our network,” Charlotte asked.

 

“Well...I don’t want to speak out of turn…” Emma said, sounding very shy again.

 

“You’re not.  I asked,” Charlotte was quick to reassure her, really not liking it when the other woman receded back into her shell.

 

Emma took a moment to think about her response. “I’m sure he has his reasons, and I may just be ignorant of them. But in general, multiple instances of security programs or protocols on the same system causes problems. Security programs tend to function a little like hostile software because it has to look into everything. Often they will detect each other as threats. Perhaps that’s how this Irish Fire got onto the system. In any case, unless Mr. Owens has his reasons, I would recommend disabling one of the three such protocols on the system.”

 

Charlotte thought about this for a minute.  “I’ll have to talk to Kevin about it first. It’s not that I don’t trust you or don’t believe you, it’s just that if he put them there, he probably had a reason for it.”

 

“Of course, and again it’s only a thought,” Emma demurred.

 

“I appreciate it, but since I don’t know much about any of this,” she waved her hand at the monitor, “I tend to make it a discussion with the people that do and defer to their expertise.  The most likely scenario is that Kevin forgot he was already running a security program and just set another one up.”  

 

“That happens more than you might think, even among pros,” Emma agreed. “I think Mr. Owens mentioned sending me out to one of your remote stations soon to see what I can do there?”

 

Charlotte raised an eyebrow.  “He did? That’s the first I’m hearing about it, but it does make sense I suppose…” she trailed off as she thought about it.  “He hates leaving headquarters, so of course he would ask you to do that. Is that something you would be okay doing?”

 

“He said I’d be guarded…” Emma suddenly sounded uncertain again “...But I do want to be useful.”

 

“Of course you’d be guarded.  I wouldn’t ask you to go out there without anyone to keep you safe.  If you want, I can assign Naomi’s squad to be the ones to escort you?”

 

“I think I’d better leave that up to you, Commander,” Emma said, mustering a nervous laugh. “You have your stuff and I have computers.”

 

Charlotte smiled genuinely.  “Okay, that’s fair. Either way, I’ll make sure you’re protected when you’re out there.  You’re safe now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

 

“Thank you, Commander.”

 

Charlotte nodded.  “Of course. Now, I should let you get back to work.”   
  
She stood and put the chair back under the table she had pulled it from.  She turned and watched Emma as she got back to work, her fingers flying furiously across the keyboard.   Charlotte smiled to herself as she was reminded why what they were doing was important work. If she could provide at least one person with a safe place to call their own, then she had succeeded.

 

She let her good mood carry her out of the command center and back to the office where she had more than enough work waiting for her.

  
  


________________________

  
  


Charlotte woke with a start, her hand reaching for her pistol immediately, even as her eyes tried to focus on the person who had basically kicked down her door.  

 

“Don’t shoot!”

 

Charlotte blinked and realized that she had managed to get her pistol pointed at the door and at Xia who was now ducking back out into the hallway.  Charlotte groaned and flopped back onto her mattress. “What’s going on Xia?”

 

“I know you were up all night with those civilians who got here late,” Xia called out as she poked her head back into Charlotte’s room.  “And that you only got to bed two hours ago, but this is kind of important. And with how close you two seemed to be getting the last few days, I figured you’d want to know.”

 

Charlotte was already pushing herself into a standing position.   “What?”

 

“It’s…” Xia hesitated.  “It’s Emma. She was taken.”

 

“What!?”  Charlotte moved immediately to the door and pushed her way towards the command center.  “What happened? Is Naomi’s unit okay?”

 

Xia fell in step next to her as they moved quickly.  “Naomi and her unit are fine. They got knocked out with some gas, but they were left otherwise unharmed.  KO has footage of it.”  

 

Charlotte burst into the command center.  “What are we doing to find her?” she asked the room.

 

The bustle stopped for a few seconds before everyone went back to work.  Lacey appeared next to her. “We’ve got Owens searching CCTV footage from the area trying to trace the vehicle through the area.  Naomi and her group will be up to debrief us once they’re done with Bevis. And Vega has multiple drones in the area, searching for anything that could help.”

 

Charlotte nodded, her eyes already on the bank of tv screens in front of her.  “Play it.”

 

Owens didn’t hesitate as he started playing the footage of Naomi’s squad rolling up to the remote antenna station and coming to a stop outside the building.  Naomi stepped out of the driver's side door and a few of her team members approached the building with her. They did a quick sweep around the perimeter and then moved to open the front door.  

 

Charlotte watched as they waved Emma out of the APC and towards the building’s door.  She made it a few steps before a pickup truck rammed suddenly into the back of the APC and three small cylinder-shaped objects were flying towards the JTF members standing there.  A thick white smoke started filling the area, and everyone started coughing. A few seconds later, everyone was stumbling before they hit the ground. Emma was one of the first ones down because of her size, and Charlotte’s eyes didn’t stray from her prone form.

 

Two very large me exited the truck and scanned the area, making sure everyone was unconscious.  One started securing weapons from the JTF members while the other one approached Emma. He stood there for a few seconds just looking at her.  Even with the odd angle, Charlotte could tell that he towered over the small woman. He roughly picked her up and took her back to the truck, tossing her into the cab rather ungracefully.  

 

“Pause it.”  

 

Kevin obeyed and watched as Charlotte walked towards the screens.  “They’re dressed like Demons, but the truck doesn’t fit. And the clothes aren’t quite right… Who are they?”  Charlotte asked as she turned to look at the room.  

 

She got several shrugs from her group and a few head shakes.  “Really? No one recognizes the markings either?”

 

She was met with silence again.  She sighed and nodded, “okay, let’s send out a few search parties to see if we can get a read on her location.  Try and find me that truck, see if any of the people saw anything… get me something to work with and we’ll bring her home.”

 

“Commander?”   
  


Charlotte turned to look at one of the JTF members that was relatively new to working in the command center.  She raised an eyebrow, “yes?”

 

“I don’t want to be the one to bring this up, but she’s just one person and she hadn’t even been here that long.  Do you think it’s wise to be spending resources looking for her?”

  
Charlotte narrowed her eyes at the rookie, taking note of how everyone diverted their eyes.  “And if it was you?”   


 

“I’m sorry?”

 

Charlotte pointed at the screen.  “If that was you being taken. Would you be asking the same question?  Would you be telling us it was a waste of resources?”   
  


The young man seemed to think about it for a few seconds before he shook his head.  “No, ma’am.”

 

Charlotte exhaled sharply in derision.  “Anderson may have been okay with leaving people behind.  The government may be okay with leaving people behind.  _ You _ ,” she pointed at him “might be okay with leaving people behind.  But that’s not how I do things. I don’t care who it is or if they showed up here five minutes ago.  The people of the city deserve a place to feel safe, they deserve to know that we’re out here fighting for them.  They deserve better from us, and leaving her out there alone is not what we do. Not anymore.”

 

She turned and looked at Kevin.  “Send me that footage.”

  
He nodded as she walked towards the door.  “And for fuck sake, someone find me something I can use to find them.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello there lovely readers! I am always amazed when I see how many hits and kudos this story has. I cannot express enough how grateful AP and I are to have you all. I definitely can't even begin to thank you enough for how awesome you have been and for all the love you've shown us and this story. Things are starting to pick up for our girls, so for those of you who have been hanging on and waiting patiently for all of our girls to meet... I promise we are only a few chapters out at this point. Anyway, thank you for your constant love, support and reviews of this story. They mean the world to us. You guys are the best!


	45. The Commander and the Hunter - Sasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After her reconnaissance of the JTF, Sasha must test the mettle of Commander Flair.

“Gentlemen, your payment,” Sasha Banks said as she pointed to a battered metal door set in the wall of the alley.

 

“A door?” JTG asked. Sasha rolled her eyes in response.

 

“What’s behind the door,” she explained as patiently as she could. She was standing in an alley with JTG and his partner Shad. They had just ‘kidnapped’ her as part of her exit strategy from the JTF. 

 

Sasha had learned all she’d hoped to and more during her brief time as Emma. More than that she’d managed to get worms onto the JTF’s main computer networks. From now on she would know what the JTF did at the same time that they learned it. A success beyond what she’d been expecting. Yet, something was bothering her as well.

 

She’d expected to get information, that had been the point after all. But what she had not expected was to feel a ‘connection’ to the people she met at the JTF HQ. Sasha was a very solitary individual, though she admitted this was mostly by inclination. She’d never been adept at connecting with others. Yet, as Emma, she’d been able to put this aside for a time. 

 

The most private part of her had to admit that it had been a relief to set aside the mantle of the ghost and her everyday self for a time. It had been...freeing.

 

“Yo, crazy lady, you need anything else? This is good shit…” Shad called over his shoulder once he and JTG had pried open the door and opened the crates inside. There was no answer. Sasha Banks, aka the Ghost aka Emma, had vanished.

 

\----------

 

Sasha was waiting impatiently for her prey to arrive.

 

The prey didn’t know they were the prey in this situation. Sasha had little doubt that they were convinced that they were the hunters. Which was all part of her plan. Overconfident enemies were careless enemies. Careless enemies were easily manipulated or defeated as the case demanded. 

 

Sasha was standing on the top floor of an unfinished office building. Its construction was fairly far along when it had halted, presumably as a result of the dollar flu. The shell was in place, but partition walls were scarce. Sasha was standing in the only complete room on the top floor. It had clearly been intended as a conference room judging by the long table that was present. 

 

She was watching out a window, though from several feet back so as not to silhouette herself. She’d been in this spot for most of the morning. She’d selected this spot because it overlooked an intersection that marked the boundary between the territory of two demon gangs. Sure enough, she’d seen several of the low lives and had shot each of them cleanly in the head or heart. When she’d done so she’d instructed Shad and JTG to begin spreading the word about the shootings. In particular, they were to tell their contacts who worked with the JTF. 

 

Sasha had been monitoring the JTF’s tactical frequency when the order had come from Charlotte Flair herself. A tac team was dispatched to search the area. Sasha could just imagine the set of the blonde’s jaw and her rigid posture as she’d given this order. When the team arrived, Sasha had left a  piece of glass hanging in the window she had shot from knowing that it would reflect the winter sunlight. 

 

Sure enough, the team had reported the flash and were now heading toward her position. Now it came time for Sasha to take a calculated risk. Sasha did her best to always arrange any situation so as to always lean toward herself. But sometimes she needed to take chances, like today. Sasha was preparing to confront an entire tactical team on her own. For most people, this would have been suicide. But she had reasons to be confident.

  
First, during her recent recon of the JTF Sasha had assessed the threat level posed by the average JTF member. Minimal at best, at least to her. More than this, she’d noted that Flair seemed more interested in capturing the Ghost than killing the Ghost. Finally, Sasha’s prodigious skills. 

 

Certainly, it was possible that she might end this day either a prisoner or dead. But she doubted it. Even if these outcomes were to occur, it didn’t seem likely to matter much. If she died, then her role in this drama would be at an end and her schemes would be so much dust. If she was captured her identity would be revealed, but she had no doubt she would be able to escape the JTF eventually. Then she could return to her work.

 

And so Sasha was confident as she heard the sounds of booted feet thundering up the stairs and onto her floor. 

 

\----------

 

Charlotte sat in a chair in the command center, chewing nervously on the nail of her right thumb.  When members had received word from an outside contact that the Ghost had reappeared, she had wasted little time in ordering a strike team to the location.  Now she was waiting anxiously for them to sweep the building that the reported seeing the light from.

 

When they had first relayed the information, Charlotte had hesitated in telling them to make entry into the building.  Everything about the situation seemed too convenient. First, the Ghost had killed Conway on her doorstep which Lynch had said was a message directed at her, but Charlotte couldn’t help but feel it was directed at both of them.  Then the Ghost died, only to make a miraculous recovery and let her scope reflect the light perfectly for the strike team to see it? Things seemed to be too neatly displayed for her liking, especially after talking to Agent Lynch about the Ghost’s style of hunting.

 

According to the redhead, the Ghost was a quick and efficient killer, one who didn’t wait around on a scene to bask in her handiwork.  In fact, the only time Lynch was aware of the Ghost waiting around was to purposefully taunt her. And if Lynch was here right now, Charlotte was pretty sure she would advise against sending the strike team into the building.  

 

But she wasn’t and Charlotte had to make a decision.  So she had given the go-ahead for the team to breach the building and search it for the Ghost.  Now she was standing by anxiously, hoping she didn’t just send several JTF members to their deaths.  

 

\----------

 

“FREEZE!” came the shout from behind Sasha.

 

Under her mask, Sasha rolled her eyes. She was already standing still. Without turning around she listened as more and more people piled into the room behind her. Conveniently the table was still between her and adversaries.

 

“Raise your hands slowly and place them on your head!” another voice barked from behind Sasha. Sasha complied or at least appeared to. As she slowly raised her hands toward her head she used a mumbled voice command in her mask to inflate to pads over her ears. These in addition to the earplugs she had already been wearing. It wouldn’t be perfect protection from what came next, but it would be better than what the JTF would deal with.

 

As her hands near the back of her head, Sasha smirked. When there mere inches away from the base of her neck, Sasha’s hands suddenly shot forward and yanked on two metal pins protruding through her cloak. The moment she did a truly and overpoweringly deafening sound blasted through the conference room, shattering the glass in front of her.

 

\----------

 

Charlotte leaned forward in her chair and studied the form that was standing in front of the strike team.  There was something familiar about her, something that was tugging at the back of Charlotte’s mind, but she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was.  

 

She watched as the Ghost complied with the orders that were being given to her, and a cold burst of dread slammed into her stomach.  She was on her feet a second later, reaching for her radio to warn the team that this was most definitely a trap when the loudest noise Charlotte could imagine came blasting through the camera feeds.

 

Even through the cameras, this noise was deafening and several people throughout the command center grabbed at their ears in an attempt to make it stop.  Charlotte winced and shook her head to refocus on what was happening, her visual now obscured as most of the JTF members were bent double in an attempt to stop the pain from the sound.  So instead of looking at the Ghost, all of the cameras were showing either boots or the pictures of the floor.  

 

\----------

 

As soon as her sonic defense had been activated, Sasha sprang into action. Leaping to one side in case any triggers were pulled out of desperation, Sasha’s hands shot to the small of her back and yanked two more pins located there. These were both linked to a smoke cannister behind each of her hips. Thick billowing clouds began to fill the room instantly, seeming to follow Sasha as she moved. 

 

And move she did.

 

Lunging forward Sasha threw herself onto the surface of the conference table, which she had taken care to polish several times today. Sliding forward Sasha raised her left arm and triggered the wrist-mounted taser there. The prongs shot through the air before embedding themselves in the neck of one of the writhing JTF members. Sasha had modified the taser to deliver a triple charge which was enough to drop the man instantly. 

 

By the time she had detached the prongs and their wires, she had reached the end of the table. As she did she kicked the nearest JTF member hard in his face, sending him tumbling backward. Hopping down to the floor Sasha lifted her right arm and sent another taser into yet another JTF member. When this man fell, Sasha snatched a pair of throwing knives off her belt which she sent into the thighs of two more JTF members. Both men fell screaming.

 

Spinning to her right Sasha raised her hands again and triggered the spring-loaded darts in her gauntlets. Each carried a strong enough tranquilizer payload to subdue a very large man. It would happen instantly, but her targets wouldn’t moving quickly for a long time. Sasha then vaulted onto the table with an extension baton in each hand.

 

\----------

 

Charlotte watched in both horror and awe as the Ghost dispatched the strike team.  But as the rest of the command center exploded into a flurry of motion, Charlotte walked closer to the screens, her eyes narrowing as she watched the smaller woman move.  

 

“Take her out!  Shoot to kill!”

 

Charlotte whipped her head around to see who had made that command, her blood boiling at the audacity of whoever it was.  She grabbed the headset off of KO and put it on herself. “Strike that last. Fall back. Disengage and fall back now!”

 

There was a hush that fell over the command center then, as all eyes turned to her.  “What the fuck did you just say?” Tommy Dreamer asked as he stood up from where he had been sitting.  

 

Charlotte handed the headset back to Kevin and turned to address the JTF’s head of patrol.  “I told them to fall back. Keeping them engaged with her is pointless and will only lead to more injuries.”

 

“You’re willing to let her just walk out of there?  After all that she’s done, after all the people she’s killed?  Why? Because she’s an Agent?” he asked as he walked towards her, his eyes burning with anger. 

 

Charlotte cocked an eyebrow as Dreamer tried to intimidate her with his size alone.  Granted he had her by close to a hundred pounds, but only a few inches separated them in height.  Charlotte had dealt with her fair share of Dreamers in her days with the Air Force and she would most likely deal with a few more here.

 

“I gave them the order because she’s not aiming to kill,” Charlotte responded calmly.

 

“So!?  She’s probably not that great at hand to hand combat or something!”

 

Charlotte merely waved at the scene that was still playing out on the screens in front of them.  “She’s not? She just injured six in a matter of seconds. Ziggler is in the area, I’ll send him in to deal with her.”

 

Dreamer shoved his finger into Charlotte’s chest.  “Those are my people in there! I give them their orders!”

 

Charlotte moved his finger away from her.  “You may be head of patrol Dreamer, but I’m the Joint Commander of both the JTF and the Division Agents.  You would do well to remember that the next time you want to try and intimidate me.”  

 

She turned to KO, “notify Ziggler of the location and tell him to expedite.”

 

At KO’s nod, Charlotte turned back to watch the screens once more. To her surprise she found herself looking directly into a mask that seemed to have been built around a set of SHD goggles. 

 

“Disappointing, Commander. So very disappointing…” the Ghost’s said in a mechanically distorted voice directly into the body camera she was holding.

Charlotte glared at the screen and then shook her head.  Initially, she had wanted to believe that Lynch was making up just how skilled the Ghost was, but this little display was proving everything the redhead said to be true. 

 

She turned and headed out of the command center.  She needed to take a break before she said or did something that she would regret in front of everyone.  Plus she needed time to think over the fact that it seemed the Ghost had turned her attention onto Charlotte now, making her and the JTF the center of her fucked up games.  Charlotte needed to come up with a plan to stop this psycho before things got too out of control.

  
  


________

 

Sasha dispatched the remaining conscious members of the JTF strike team with kicks to the head. She then relieved them of their weapons, ammunition, and armor. She wouldn’t be able to carry all or even most of her prizes so she stashed them in the drop ceiling of a lower floor of the office building. She then made good on her escape heading north when she was on the street.

 

This path would take her past the JTF but this was a deliberate choice. Sasha knew that the automatic assumption by any pursuers would be that she would head straight away from the JTF. There was value in doing the unexpected, humans were creatures of routine and expectation. Even those that they weren’t aware they had. For example, the expectation about how a quarry would behave.

 

Yet, Sasha hadn’t gone much further than three blocks before she knew she had a tail. There wasn’t any obvious sign, only an instinct. Unlike many empiricists, Sasha had no objection to the concept of instinct. Though she didn’t ascribe it to any sort of hypothetical sixth sense. Instinct, to Sasha, was nothing more than one’s mind considering various data points below the conscious level.

 

So when her instincts, honed by years of the darkest sort of work, told her she was being followed then she took it seriously. But no one, even Sasha, was infallible. So she needed to confirm her suspicion. Increasing her pace she suddenly turned sharply into an abandoned store. Still hurrying she proceeded to weave in and out through the shelves for several minutes, leaving a nonsensical line of boot prints in the dust and snow.

 

Passing out of the shops backdoor and into an alley, Sasha took a hard left and began to hurry. She didn’t make any more noise than usual, in fact, she made next to no sound at all. Going about fifteen yards down the alley she ducked through another door. She found herself in the kitchen of a restaurant. Looking around she found another door which she opened.

 

Finding herself in a cramped stairwell, she ascended quickly and found herself facing a short hallway with doors leading to two small apartments. Find the door of the first locked, she broke it down before moving to the second and carefully picking it. Slipping inside she closed the door quietly and locked it again. She then settled down, facing the door, for twenty minutes. During that time she listened with all her might.

 

She was rewarded eventually with the sound of a man’s voice coming from the alley below the apartment’s windows. “Oh, she’s good, Commander…” the voice said “...But I got her. The bitch tree’d herself.”

 

Sasha smirked.

 

\----------

 

Almost five minutes after he’d first checked in, Agent Ziggler was back on the radio. 

 

“I can’t believe this bitch has such a rep, I got her on the first try-  _ ugh!”  _ This unexpected was followed by the sound of a struggle, some muffled cursing, and then a crumpling sound as something heavy hit the floor. Then there was silence.

 

Charlotte sat up straight in her chair, her hand tightly gripping the radio.  “Ziggler? Ziggler, come in.”

 

Through the speaks came the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps approaching the microphone. Then a shuffling sound as it was lifted off of the agent’s body. Then the voice, that same distorted voice. “So this is the sort of mediocrity that Anderson allowed into his organization...how distasteful.”

 

Charlotte sighed as she closed her eyes, trying to get a handle on her frustration.  “What do you want? You could have gotten away without taking him out, and yet here we are.  So what is it that you want?”

 

“Had I left without doing so, we wouldn’t have been able to have this pleasant conversation, Commander Flair.” 

 

“Is it pleasant?  I’m not sure I would have used that word to describe it.”  Charlotte knew that pushing the Ghost’s buttons wasn’t the smartest move she could ever pull, especially since she had gotten lucky and no one had been killed yet.  But she just couldn’t help herself. “You have my undivided attention. What did you want to discuss?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“So you caught Ziggler for… nothing?  Why waste your time then?” 

 

“I have nothing I wish to discuss now, in this setting. No doubt your technical staff are doing their clumsy best to triangulate this signal. If, however, you would like to retrieve Agent Ziggler’s property then I suggest another discussion in the future.”

 

“And if I wish to retrieve Ziggler, what’s that going to cost me?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“....Nothing?  I can just come pick him up?  Why?” There was definitely something that Charlotte was missing here.  The Ghost had been killing every Agent she had come in contact with, except Agent Lynch, up until this point.  So what was it about Ziggler that changed the game?

 

“His lesson and yours will be more effective this way.”

 

Charlotte’s eyebrow raised at that.  “My lesson? What could you possibly be trying to teach me with this?  From where I’m sitting, it looks like this is just you rubbing in your superiority over one of my Agents.”

 

“Learn from it. You and your band of incompetents are beneath me. Do not intervene in my work again, or face more dire consequences.”

 

Charlotte paused while she thought about that.  “This is a warning? Did you go to all this trouble to warn me away from you?  Seems like you could have just written me a note, called me on the radio, stopped by for a chat… especially since your node would have gotten you through the front gate.”

 

“People of lesser intelligence often benefit more from visual examples.”

 

“Hmm,” Charlotte leaned back in her chair.  “I suppose you’re right. You mentioned a later meeting.  I’m assuming you have a place in mind?”

 

“I will communicate a location at the opportune time.”

“You could just come here.  I am kind of busy cleaning up the mess you and Straight Fire made.  Maybe save me some time?” Charlotte couldn’t keep the smirk off her face.  She knew that this was not going to fly, but she had to try.  

 

“Really, Commander, childish petulance? And from an officer. It would be amusing if it weren’t so tragic that you now sit in the Commander’s chair. I will contact you with a time and location shortly.”

 

With that, the line went dead.

 

Charlotte sighed as she put the radio back onto her desk and immediately went over to her wall of Agents that were still active in the area.  She would call the JTF and some of the Agents off the search for the Ghost for the time being. They had gotten lucky today, so Charlotte didn’t want to press her luck.  

 

What she needed was a few Agents that she knew could work well together to get this accomplished.  Ziggler was arrogant and cocky, so him getting caught really didn’t mean too much to Charlotte. But some of her other Agents… Agents like the New Day, Ali and even Cage could possibly catch this bitch.  Especially if she could get Lynch to play ball with intel and planning.  

 

This was not going to be easy, that was for sure.

 

\----------

 

Just 48 hours later, Sasha had placed and baited her trap. Now it was just a matter of waiting to see if her prey arrived. 

 

She believed that Charlotte Flair would indeed show. Sasha had observed how much loose ends grated on the joint commander’s type-A personality. The fact that Ziggler’s SHD tech was on the street would bother her to no end. Sasha felt the larger risk would be that Flair would try to descend on her location with overwhelming force. But if she did, Sasha had plans in place.

 

It had taken most of the last two days to prepare her chosen location, an abandoned movie theater. Sasha had chosen it because of how robustly it had been locked down by its previous owners. Sasha assumed because they had hoped to someday come back to their business. Whether that might still happen, Sasha couldn’t know. What she did know was that the theater was a perfect location for her trap.

 

She’d provided Flair with the GPS coordinates an hour beforehand. Along with the coordinates had been a message stating that Sasha would wait for two hours before leaving. And that if she left she would begin selling her stockpiled SHD tech. Sasha had no intention of doing so, but Flair couldn’t afford to risk it. 

 

Sasha pulled her hood up over her face and waited.

 

\----------

  
  


Charlotte sighed as she looked at the old movie theater from a building across the street and a little bit down.  It didn’t look like a death trap was waiting inside for her, but she wouldn’t know for sure until she actually got inside and started looking around.  

 

The question was, was Ziggler’s missing SHD tech worth risking her life over?  Since the Ghost had threatened to start selling it if Charlotte was a no show, the answer was yes.  They were already trying to desperately catch up with the amount of tech that was already out there.  

 

Charlotte took one last look at the building through her binoculars and decided she had delayed long enough.  It had already taken her the better part of an hour to get here since she had to provide counter-surveillance measures to make sure she hadn’t been followed.  The note hadn’t explicitly said she should come alone, but with how cautious the Ghost had been when they were communicating through Ziggler’s radio, she assumed that the Ghost had set this meeting up for privacy.  So she had come alone and was willing to deal with the consequences later.  

 

She approached the door cautiously and then eased it open, clicking on the flashlight on the rail of her rifle.  She used it to illuminate the otherwise dark entranceway as she moved further into the building, looking for any sign as to where the Ghost wanted her to go exactly.  

 

As she entered a light turned on one of the theater doors.

 

Charlotte pivots as the light turns on, her rifle pointed in that direction.  When nothing else happened, Charlotte moved cautiously towards it and then pushed through the door, making sure to clear the corners before lowering her rifle to the low ready position.  She walked further in and looked around, waiting for whatever else the Ghost had planned.

 

\----------

 

Sasha watched from the darkened projection booth as the blonde entered. Sasha noted the familiar long-ranging stride and head swiveling from side to side. It seemed that Flair really was a creature of routine. Sasha amused herself by thinking about how many people in Chicago would pay to be in her position, to have the joint commander at their mercy.

 

A single pull of the trigger and she could completely shatter the power structure of Chicago. But she remained where she was, hitting a switch on the wall to turn on a single overhead light. Its beam fell onto a metal case that Sasha had placed on a stool. She watched as Flair’s head swiveled at the sound of the light turning on. Hitting another control Sasha activated a dozen speakers she’d positioned in the light fixtures around the room. To Flair, it would sound like Sasha was speaking from every direction.

 

As the last step she activated the distorter built into her ask. “ _ Behold, management has arrived.” _

 

\---------

Charlotte looked around the room, trying to spot the speakers.  “If that’s what you want to call me. I’m here regardless, so how about you hand over the SHD tech and we can go our separate ways.”

 

The Ghost chuckled, the sound seeming to echo around Charlotte. “First, a few inquiries.”

 

Charlotte sighed as she slid her rifle to her back and held her hands wide.  “Of course. What do you want to know?”

 

“What do you know of Agent Kang?”

 

“He was a good agent who was killed by you,” Charlotte responded immediately.

 

“Indeed? And Agent Bergamasco?”

 

“Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself calm.  “Also an agent that was killed by you.”

 

“Agent Johnson?”

 

“Also killed by you.  Are we just going to do a roll call of all the agents you killed?”  Charlotte took a steadying breath. “Because I have the full list. What’s your point?”

 

There was a long pause. “The case is yours.”

 

“This case?”  Charlotte asked as she walked towards the metal case on the stool.  “Or are you trying to speak cryptically about something that I don’t know about?”

 

There was no response.

 

Charlotte rolled her eyes as she stopped in front of the metal case.  No wonder Agent Lynch was so frustrated when it came to dealing with the Ghost.  “You want to tell me why you’re killing my Agents?” She had a feeling the Ghost had already left, but she figured she’d ask just in case the other woman was still around somewhere.  She picked up the case.

 

“All in good time, what do the words ‘the Corporation’ mean to you?”

 

“The Corporation?”  Charlotte stopped to think about it for a few seconds.  “No. Never heard of it. I know the Administration led by Sammartino, but not the Corporation.  Should I know what that means?”

 

\----------

 

Before her target do more than blink Sasha had raised her rifle and activated its laser. She didn’t need the pointer but she used it as a means of intimidation. “The case you’re holding? It has a heartbeat monitor built into the handle. The mere mention of ‘the Corporation’ spiked your heart rate, Commander. So it seems you were the final member of that vile syndicate. I tell you this only so you know that your death is upon you now and there is nothing you can do.”

 

Charlotte’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.  “Are you kidding me right now? For starters, I have never heard of ‘the Corporation’ so whatever your heartbeat monitor is picking up, it isn’t that.   Secondly, you seem like an intelligent person, so you know there’s a reason lie detector tests are no longer admissible in court. And finally, this is the biggest crock of shit I’ve ever heard.”  

 

Charlotte chuckled, “you bring me down here, act all cryptically and then try and intimidate me with a laser pointer?  Please try a little harder next time. If you were really going to kill me, you would’ve done it already. Which means that you wanted to check the validity of my claim based on my reaction. So I’ll say it again, I have no idea who or what ‘the Corporation’ is.”

 

The shot took the Commander right in her thigh, as she dropped to the ground Sasha fired again. This round shattering the receiver on her rifle. Then the laser appeared between Charlotte’s eyes. “Hubris does not suit you, Commander. Nor does bravado. You’ve been under biometric surveillance since you entered the theater. The case as merely a final confirmation of a derivation from the norm. I have also been observing the comings and goings of your associations AND yourself for some time.”

 

A light suddenly turned on, it’s powerful beam pointed directly into Charlotte’s face. 

 

“My observations seem to indicate that you hold some sort of spiritual beliefs. I wonder how they square with human trafficking? Something to ponder as you die. Good-bye, Commander.”

 

Charlotte grunted, her teeth clenched in pain as the Ghost rambled on over the speaker system.  “Human trafficking!? What are you even talking about!?” She hesitated as an idea filtered through the painful fog in her mind.  “Are you implying the Agents you killed were human traffickers? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Because if that’s the case, and you’re as all-knowing as you seem to think you are, then you missed a pretty big thing…”   
  
Charlotte pulled herself so she was leaning up against a seat behind her.  She put pressure on the wound on her thigh. “...I’m not fucking involved and haven’t heard anything about it.  I’m out here basically killing myself to protect the people of this city, and you think I’m just trafficking them!? You’re wrong.”

 

“You are either lying, which is most likely, or telling the truth. If you are in earnest then you have allowed a cancer to form directly under your own nose and you are both hopelessly ignorant and incompetent. Is such an assertion really what you wish your last words to be?”

Charlotte pulled her hand off of her thigh and looked at it.  Her eyebrows rose slightly when she saw that it didn’t have any blood on it.  “Then me declaring my ignorance and incompetence will be my last words. I’m either blind as shit or whatever you’re talking about was already deeply ingrained before Anderson died and I took over.  Regardless, the truth is what I’m giving you and it’s that I don’t know about any human trafficking. I don’t know how to change your mind on this one since you’ve already decided where my chips fall in all of this.”

 

Sasha paused and thought for several moments, weighing the new information. She let Flair stew for almost a minute before she answered. “Perhaps you are merely the well-intentioned dupe that your reputation suggests. Regardless, you may still have a part to play in my designs. The case contains Agent Ziggler’s SHD tech and another item that might interest you. And, remember Commander, do not attempt to frustrate my designs again.”

 

Sasha made sure to shut off the light as she left the booth.

 

\----------

 

Charlotte exhaled and leaned further against the seat behind her once the light turned off.  She waited for a minute or two before she figured that the Ghost had left. The first thing Charlotte did was look at her thigh, the surprise furthering when she realized that the bullet hadn’t pierced her skin.  “Fucking unreal,” she grunted as she shifted and then finally pushed herself to her feet.  

 

She bent back down and picked up the case.  With that and her now ruined rifle, Charlotte drew her pistol and started hobbling towards the exit.  She would need to be able to walk normally by the time she got back to HQ otherwise she would get an earful from Bevis and Scot again, and that was not something she needed right now.

 

Charlotte was actually happy that she hadn’t brought an APC with her to this meeting.  It meant she had some time to start planning exactly how she was going to catch the Ghost and how she was going to make her pay.  No one got to shoot her and get away with it.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone surprised? I hope at least a little! 
> 
> For as dangerous as she is, Sasha really has a way of making you loathe her, doesn't she? Any ideas what Charlotte will have to do now? What would you do? Drop us a comment and let us know!
> 
> We're in full swing now and we've got so much more ahead for all of you wonderful people so make sure to check back regularly!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
